Bewitching the Knight: (A Medieval Time Travel Romance) Read Free

her hands together. “Historians used to claim Ian MacGregor had it, right?”
    Grandfather’s eyes shone bright with interest. “Correct. He was originally a likely candidate. The crown disappeared when he left the king and took over Inverdeem as laird. A favor the king granted as his blood-right even though MacGregor was illegitimate. But his dying always looked suspicious, and eventually it was believed the king may have had a hand in it.” Grandfather shrugged. “So historians started thinking, the king giveth and the king taketh away.”
    Samantha took a folder from her satchel and removed her notes and some photos. “Remember the monument in the middle of the village outside Inverdeem Castle?”
    “The big rock? Of course. What about it?”
    Samantha turned the photos around and showed him first the monument, then a close up of the small birds carved into the front; some barely visible, some likely faded away completely. Finally she handed him the enlarged photo of the side of the monument. “These three marks aren’t more birds, Grandpa, they’re claws.” She drew her finger to fill in the faded areas. “And the claws are set off by themselves, on the side of the monument, near the base. Do you see it?”
    He turned on his reading lamp, reached for his glasses, and took the enlarged photo. He studied it for a long moment, then reached for the others and examined them closely before looking at the claws again. Finally, he looked up. “A lion’s paw? The king’s emblem?”
    Suddenly unsure, she rushed into speech, telling him things he already knew, but needing to say them out loud, to state her case. “As you said, Ian MacGregor had originally been high on everyone’s list of suspects for who took the crown. He died only a few months after becoming laird. Just long enough for him to hide the crown, but not really long enough to have sold it off. Not in that time period. There are writings that tell of the king’s men doing a thorough search of the castle, going so far as to break down walls. At the time, no one knew why. It wasn’t until later historians put together the thought that the crown disappeared after Ian MacGregor’s death and maybe he’d stolen it and been punished by the king. But when explorations didn’t recover it, in any century, everyone gave up the theory. The fact that he was half-English with strong ties to England sort of nixed the idea for most. But, Grandpa, I think it’s still there.”
    “Because?”
    “I got to thinking there are such contradictory stories about MacGregor. He’d been a bodyguard for the king and was granted land, or, the king didn’t trust him and killed him and tore his castle apart. He was known to be harsh but fair, but by other accounts sly and sneaky. He may or may not have been a spy for the English. So which is it? His tournament wins suggest he was a great fighter. By some accounts he was a man’s man, big in stature, a bodyguard. And the king did grant him his family lands. So I thought, what if the king had taken a liking to him? Had trusted him?”
    He looked at the picture, tilting his glasses so he could see better, and smiled slightly. “Oh, you tricky, tricky Scot.” He looked up. “It would be just like him to hide the thing in plain sight.” He huffed out a laugh. “How long have you worked on this?”
    “Two years, on and off. I started with the castle and the grounds, and eliminated hiding places one by one. I eventually ended up in the village.” It hadn’t been hard. She’d never admit it to her grandfather—he already teased her enough about it—but digging into the man’s life had become both a pleasure and a distraction.
    As contradictory as the accounts of his character were, everyone pretty much agreed the man was a head taller than most, with thick dark hair that fell down his back, braided more often than not. It was rumored his face was so pretty he wore a beard to hide his features from the ladies at court.