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the hall carrying an armload of linens. Her appearance shattered Emmy’s sudden hopes and she knew that the ‘dream’ was indeed reality.
    What to do?  The never-ending question again pounded in her mind like the beating of a drum.  Duart, she thought.  1895.  She still had no real idea how it had happened beyond her initial speculation that it had to be a government experiment gone wrong.  Coping with her circumstances was top priority. 
    Logically she knew she should pretend to be this Heather MacLean as long as she could get away with it.  She was lost in time.  If she fought the battle and the laird accepted that she wasn’t his wife, she would be left without a place to stay or food to eat.  That was something she could not afford to happen , especially with winter fast approaching.  Of course, she also had no money to support herself in this time. The pounds and pence she had in her purse would only draw suspicion that Emmy wasn’t prepared to defend against. 
    She needed to figure out how to get back but wasn’t sure where to start.  In the meantime she would do what she had to , even if it meant deceiving the entire castle.  Better that than the nightmare of burning at the stake.
    Emmy started to tiptoe toward the stairs before she shook her head for being such a ninny.  Was she truly trying to sneak around this castle?  It was so big her chances of meeting another person were pretty slim.  Straightening up, Emmy strode more confidently, taking in the décor of the castle as she went. 
    The halls were paneled in intricately carved rosewood with lovely, fragile sconces lighting the hall at intervals.  Plush carpet runners padded the wood floor and oil paintings in ornate frames hung on the walls.  The staircase was another example of fine woodworking with its hand-carved spindles and elaborate newel posts. The hall below was lit by an enormous chandelier that bounced light off the polished marble floors.
    It was all very extraordinary and indicated a wealth that boggled Emmy’s mind.  And, oddly, it all looked brand new as if it had just been completed.  Emmy knew the MacLeans had only returned to Duart in the past twenty years from this historic date, having recovered the castle after centuries.  Duart had been a near ruin on its recovery by the clan; she knew that much from her guidebook, but now she wondered to what extent it had been rebuilt.  Perhaps she would find the courage to ask Connor.
    Emmy opened the massive front door, slipping silently into the misty Scottish morning.  The rising sun on the other side of the castle cast long shadows over the courtyard and outer walls. The castle itself was a thick U shape.  The central section she exited from reached out with two deep wings on either side.  On one side the building was five stories high.  The rear and opposite side were only three, and the top end of the U the wings created was closed by a tall defensible wall with only an ornamental iron gate leading to the entrance she’d arrived at the day before. 
    She hadn’t seen t his enclosed courtyard before. She must have been carried through it the previous day after fainting outside the front gates.  That open area might have been used in the past for the castle soldiers to train in or for work to be done.  Today it consisted of a tidy network of pathways and low shrubbery with an impressive stone fountain at its center.  Not complicated, but rather sparse overall.  Compared with the lush gardens she had seen over the course of her vacation, Emmy appreciated its simple elegance.
    Emmy clutched her blazer around her , crossing her arms against the morning chill.  The ground was damp after the storms of the previous evening.  It squished beneath her feet as she walked across the paths and through the heavy gate, the only exit from the entire castle she had found so far.  She went down a series of stone steps to the drive where the bus had dropped her off the previous