“Sweet Mother of God, I’m glad to know that you are safe, baby. I’m sure one of us will find the ring, and we will have the two of you switched back soon. Now that I know you’re safe, I can tell you how jealous I am that you’re there, getting to meet and live with the very people I’ve spent my life trying to learn about. I can’t wait to hear all of the wonderful stories you must
have. I miss you, darling and I love you more than you will ever know.”
No doubt that was Mom. She wrote just like she spoke, and it relieved some of my anxiety to know that she would no longer be as worried for my safety. I was reaching to grab the ink and pen and write back when handwriting different from the others on the page caught my eye.
Scribbled in fine lettering beside my first message to Mom, the words were so tiny that I’d almost missed them. I was sure Blaire had scribbled them, and the words caused my breath to catch in my throat.
Right next to my own mention of how much I knew Blaire must be ready to return home, she had written,
“I canna go back. I want to stay here.”
I sat down on the bench in front of the table and read her words once more for good measure. An uncontrollable excitement spread throughout me as I took in her words a fourth and fifth time. If Blaire didn’t want to come back here, was there really any reason why I had to leave?
I already knew deep down that I didn’t want to return home. Strangely enough, I fit here in this time, with these people, with Eoin. But I couldn’t bring myself to make that decision for the others involved. I couldn’t deny Blaire the right to return to her home, I couldn’t deny Arran the chance to see the woman he loved again, and I couldn’t deny my mother the knowledge that I was okay.
Now that I was able to communicate with Mom, no matter how small the form, she would at least know that I was safe and happy. That’s all she wanted for me anyway, and if she knew that I’d found happiness here, she would be able to make her peace with that in time.
It would be hard for Arran to accept Blaire’s absence, but if her writing was any indication, it didn’t seem to me that she reciprocated his feelings. Perhaps it would be easier for him to move on believing she still loved him but couldn’t return home, rather than have her returned to him and find he was unwanted.
I’d left the spell room the night before heartsick, knowing that each time I went to sleep, I would wake up with one less day that I would get to spend here. Today, the possibility of being able to spend all of my days here had me on the edge of pure elation.
But there was still one factor I wasn’t taking into account. I was assuming, most likely foolishly, that Eoin wanted me to stay. He was kind, attentive, loving, and seemingly sad when the topic of my leaving came up in conversation. That being said, I knew that knowing he would miss me and him wanting me to stay beside him forever were two very different things.
I wasn’t the woman he’d agreed to or thought he had married. And he’d yet to verbally express his feelings for me. Was I willing to make myself so vulnerable to him by telling him how much I loved him, how desperately I didn’t want to leave him, with the hope that he would match my own feelings?
The thought terrified me, but I didn’t see how I had any choice. I knew myself well enough to know that the regret I would have over not taking the risk would be far more painful than the heartbreak I would feel if he didn’t want me in his life.
I loved him too much to leave him. Whether we had years to love or just days left, I would treasure my time with him forever.
I was unsure of where he was taking me tonight, but it would allow me the perfect opportunity to tell him I no longer wanted to go home.
With my mind set, I nervously made my way out of the spell room and went in search of Mary. I was going to be an anxious wreck all day, and I knew she would keep me busy. Plus, maybe she could help me find a sexier dress. I was going to need whatever I could manage to help me keep my cool.
*
Arran was already past his boiling point, and his anger over Eoin’s selfishness had him ready to spring on the first bastard unlucky enough to cross paths with him. Unfortunately for himself, it was Kip who he decided to unleash his anger on. He couldn’t have made a worse decision.
It was early afternoon when Arran stormed out of the castle, planning to get some fresh air. As he walked toward the stables, he saw Kip’s runaway walking casually in the direction of the village. It was the only excuse he needed.
Making as much noise as he could manage, he walked into the side door of the stables, knowing it would draw Kip’s attention. Kip held a pitchfork and was working on maneuvering hay around to the different stalls.
“Where the hell did ye let him go, Kip?”
He was rewarded with a smack right in the middle of his forehead as Kip brought the end of the wooden stick forward, slamming it into his face.
“Now, what did ye say, Arran? I do believe ye thought ye were talking to someone else for a moment.”