few years ago. Her ancestor’s home had changed quite a bit in the past four hundred years. Before her stood a square keep with a little circular turret that went from ground height past the roof. The house, in its original state, was quite nicer looking without the many alterations and additions that had happened to it over the centuries. It looked welcoming and homey, whereas in the twenty-first century, it looked like a monolith that had something of each era imprinted upon it.
Knocking on the door, Kenzie checked her gown and pulled her woolen shawl tighter as a chilling wind blew up from the coast. She’d woken on the shore in front of the house and had dusted herself off, happy to see her bags had joined her on the beach.
No sound came from inside, and she stepped down the couple of stairs at the entrance to look about the yard. It, too, seemed deserted. She pursed her lips, puzzled. Had she landed in the wrong time? Made a mistake as to where her ancestor was supposed to be in 1605? Her stomach churned before the sound of a carriage caught her attention, and she stood to the side of the door, waiting and hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t a sword-wielding barbarian looking for someone to kill. Namely her.
A cart carrying an array of furniture and trunks passed her by and went around the back of the house before a carriage came into view, along with a group of riders. Kenzie swallowed her nerves, having had no way of informing her ancestor of her arrival. She wasn’t sure how Gwen would take her visit. She hoped it would be welcoming, but then, they were strangers when all was told, and she’d yet to see the woman’s face that she knew as well as her own—from the portraits that hung of her in Castle Druiminn and this very house behind her.
The carriage rocked to a halt, and a woman, much shorter than herself, stepped out, stretched her back, and mumbled her relief at being out of the vehicle. A horde of children followed, all squealing and running off toward the gardens, not paying the least mind to their visitor.
Not sure if she should curtsy or speak, Kenzie waited to see what Gwen’s reaction would be. To be so patient and quiet wasn’t easy for her. As a woman who ran her own estate as a profitable business, she wasn’t used to not speaking out.
“Gwendolyn Macleod?” she said at last, finally catching the woman’s attention.
“Aye.” Her ancestor walked toward her, and Kenzie realized she was quite possibly the most beautiful woman she’d ever met. Fiery red hair and intelligent, deep green eyes took her measure, before Gwen grinned. “I have a feeling I should know ye, lass. Is that right?”
Kenzie nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I’m Kenzie Jacobs of Clan Macleod, and I’m your granddaughter, many times removed.”
Gwen closed the space between them, clasping Kenzie’s cheeks, taking in her every feature. “Aye, I know in my blood ye are who you say. Oh, my dear, dear child,” she said, taking Kenzie into her arms. “Is everything well? Why are ye gifting me with such a visit?”
“Do not fear, all is well, but I wanted to see you, meet ye.” She went willingly into Gwen’s arms once more and only looked up when a man of similar age walked up to them, a curious look on his face.
“And who’s our guest that ye’re so fond of, Gwen, lass? I don’t think I’ve ever met this young lady before.”
Gwen laughed, going to the man and wrapping her arm about his own. “Come inside, Braxton, for it is the best of news, but we should not discuss it here.”
Kenzie followed them inside and noted the large wooden staircase that threaded up to the second floor. Large animal heads graced the wall, most of which were no longer hanging in the home due to the fact her mother hated taxidermy and the killing of innocent animals for the pleasure of men.
But in this time, it suited the home, along with the iron chandelier and large rectangular table that sat in the foyer with nothing other than a vase of native flowers to cheer up the room.
Gwen clasped Kenzie’s hand and pulled her into an adjoining room, ordering mead and bread from a waiting servant before shutting the door. Gwen seemed to prepare herself for her speech before taking Kenzie’s hand and squeezing it kindly.
“Braxton, my