rather formal in Clan tartan — and at his side, Anna, resplendent in a gorgeous gown. Helen embraced her, murmuring a compliment in her ear about the gown — and caught the slight eye roll that was her only response, remembering with a grin how much Anna disliked long skirts. Malcolm was there too, with his wife Nancy, and Brendan and Elena were already seated at the table.
In the middle of the table was a tall, callow youth who for a moment Helen mistook for a servant, he looked so unsure of himself. But he was wearing all black, and she realized with a start that the collar he was wearing denoted a Catholic priest. This must be Father Caleb. Why, he looked all of fifteen years old — though she could tell from the slight stubble on his cheeks and the fine lines around his eyes that he must be at least into his twenties. An unfortunate look of youth, then — one that his bad posture didn’t do much to alleviate. She reached out to shake his hand as they were introduced, and he scanned her face with an expression that he clearly thought was doing a good job of hiding his fear of her. It wasn’t.
“Helen Washington,” she said with as reassuring a smile as she could muster. This man looked more nervous than she was. “You must be Father Caleb.”
“I am, I am,” he said, clearly working to make his voice deeper than its natural resting place. “I understand you’re a newcomer to the castle.”
“I am,” she said, careful not to say too much — she remembered what Anna had said about how the villagers felt about magic and Faerie activity. Somehow, she got the feeling that this priest wouldn’t want to know that she’d been brought back through time from the future by magical faeries — he seemed to be having a hard enough time meeting a woman as it was. “They’ve been incredibly gracious hosts.”
“They are known for that,” Father Caleb agreed, shooting the men around him a look as he cleared his throat and sat at the table. They all started their meal — but not before Father Caleb had piously said a few words over the food.
Laird Donal lowered his head obediently — but Helen caught the sidelong glance he shot Anna as he did. Not especially fond of the church, she gathered from that brief look. Interesting.
“You’re not from around here, Father Caleb?” she asked once the prayer was done, interested in making conversation. He shook his head around the mouthful of bread he was working on.
“No, no. From Ireland originally, but … well, I was brought here by the Lord.”
Donal cleared his throat hard, and Anna thumped him on the back with a funny expression on her face. There was clearly more to this story, and Helen leaned forward, intrigued.
“By the Lord?”
“By a band of witch-hunters,” Malcolm said quickly, his eyes dancing, and the murderous look Donal shot him reminded her so much of the interactions between her own brothers that she almost burst out laughing then and there. “Father Caleb was part of a roving band of criminals who wrongfully accused Donal of witchcraft —”
“Do we really need to tell the whole story?” Caleb squeaked.
“But he chose the right side of the conflict,” Donal said, giving Malcolm a sidelong glance that clearly promised further recrimination later. “And in gratitude for his services to the Sept, we suggested he stay and set up in the local church, which had been empty for some years.”
“Yes, well, anywhere there’s a flock, so will a shepherd find his home,” Father Caleb said piously.
Helen made a note to ask Anna more about that story later — the woman was clearly hiding a grin that suggested there was a lot more to it than had been conveyed.
“And how is the flock, Father Caleb? Forgive me, but we don’t usually see you unless something’s wrong.”
“Ah, well, yes. Unfortunately.” Caleb cleared his throat. “As much as I do love visiting you all, there is an ulterior motive to my visit.”
“Not just Blair’s cooking?”
“No,” he said quickly, swallowing a mouthful of perfectly cooked meat. “Though that is appealing. Ah, no. It’s to do with the villagers, and with a certain amount of — dissent, that’s rising. I felt it prudent to keep you informed.”
“Dissent? Does it have anything to do with the disappearances of the fishermen? Because those have been under control.” Donal was frowning over his plate.
Caleb