When the Hawk had told her what strange news Grimm had discovered at Comyn keep, Lydia had studied Adrienne closely, watching for any signs of instability or peculiar behavior. Through her close observation, she had only become more convinced that Adrienne was just as sane as a person could be. She had concluded that while something had hurt Adrienne deeply in her past, whatever had hurt her had far from weakened her mind—Adrienne had been strengthened by it, like tempered steel. Oh, Lydia knew there was a very lonely young woman behind some of Adrienne's caustic humor and sometimes cool facade, but Lydia had found that stern walls most often guarded a treasure, and a treasure her daughter-in-law was indeed. Lydia cared for her enormously and had every intention of having grandchildren from her son and this lovely young woman.
The idea that the entire Comyn clan was suffering some strange madness didn't make sense. Lydia knew Althea Comyn well from time spent at court together, years past. She was a practical, worldly-wise woman, and although over the years Althea had grown more reclusive, she still remained pragmatic and levelheaded.
Lydia had long suspected the Laird Comyn of acts of twisted violence. Could she believe he had killed his own daughter in an act of senseless violence? Easily. He'd had his youngest son slaughtered like a lamb to the sacrifice for crossing clan lines and taking up with one of the Bruce's grandnieces.
Through all of the Red Comyn's acts of twisted and petty vengeances, Althea Comyn had managed the aftermath to the continued benefit of her clan. She was an extraordinary woman, holding her children and grandchildren together with sheer will and determination.
And so to Lydia, the thought of the pragmatic Lady Comyn suffering a fit of fantasy was more difficult to believe than the possibility of time travel. Simply put, Althea Comyn was too much a cold realist to indulge in any nonsense.
Having reached her conclusions, Lydia smiled gently at Adrienne, who had been waiting in tense silence. "Hawk told me what Lady Comyn said, Adrienne. That you're not her daughter. That you appeared out of thin air. Indeed, I have heard your brogue ebb and flow like a stormy, unpredictable tide."
Adrienne was momentarily chagrined. "You have?"
Lydia snorted. "When you were ill your burr disappeared entirely, my dear."
Adrienne blinked. "Why didn't anybody ever ask me about it?"
"In case you haven't noticed, things haven't been exactly calm since you've come to Dalkeith. Not a day has passed that hasn't brought new surprises. Murder attempts, unwelcome visitors, not to mention the Hawk behaving like a besotted lad. Besides, I hoped that one day you would confide in me of your own choosing. Now, the guards tell me they watched you disappear and reappear several times before their very eyes." Lydia rubbed her palms against the skirt of her dress, a far-off expression in her eyes. "From the future," she murmured softly. "My son believed it was some trauma that made you believe such madness and yet…"
"And yet what?" Adrienne urged.
Lydia met Adrienne's clear steady eyes. They stared at each other a long, searching moment.
Finally Lydia said, "Nay. Not a hint of madness in that gaze."
"I'm from another time, Lydia. I'm not mad."
"I believe you, Adrienne," Lydia said simply.
"You do?" Adrienne practically yelped. "Why?"
"Does it really matter? Suffice it to say, I am convinced. And when things finally return to normal around here, if they ever do, I want you to tell me all about it. Your time. I have many questions, but they will wait. For now, there are things we must be clear on." Lydia's brow furrowed in thought. "How did you get here, Adrienne?"
"I don't know." Adrienne shrugged helplessly. "Truly, I have no idea."
"The Hawk thought it was the black queen. The Lady Comyn said it was bewitched."
"I thought it was too."
"So it never was the black queen… hmmm. Adrienne, we must be absolutely clear on this. Exactly what were you doing at the moment when it happened?"
"The first time, when I wound up at the Comyn keep? Or this time?"
"This time," Lydia said. "Although we should investigate the first time as well, and look for similarities."
"Well… I was walking in the gardens and I was thinking about the twentieth century. I was thinking about how much—
"You wanted to leave," Lydia finished for her, with a trace of bitterness.
Adrienne was equally surprised and touched. "No. Actually I was thinking about how nice it is here. In the 1990s, my God, Lydia, people were just out of control! Children killing parents. Parents killing children. Children killing children. They've all got cell phones stuck to their ears and yet I've never seen such distance between people trying so hard to be close. And just the day before I left you should have seen the headlines in the papers. A boy strangled a little girl when she wouldn't get off the phone and let him use it. Oh, I was thinking bitter thoughts of that time and comparing it to home and home was definitely winning."