Rhianna had explained earlier that a long-standing Samhain tradition of divination claimed that if a woman were to peel an apple, then stand with her back to the ceremonial bonfires and throw the peel over her shoulder into the flames, said peel would spell out the first letter of her future husband’s name.
“Campbell, indeed?” Mena smiled into Rhianna’s glowing features and glanced at Jani, who scowled at the peel as though it were his enemy.
“As in Kevin Campbell,” the brunette taunted in a singsong voice.
“Nay, Rhianna, it wouldna be Kevin Campbell,” the redhead—Mena thought she was Kayleigh—argued. “The letter only pertains to the first name of your husband, surnames doona count.”
Rhianna pouted at her friend. “But there’s no way an apple peel can spell out the letter K!” she protested loudly. “Exceptions have to be made, isna that right, Miss Lockhart?”
Three sets of expectant young eyes turned on her and Mena couldn’t help but laugh out loud, abruptly grateful for the distraction. “I would imagine that in such a case, an exception could be made. Else it would make many an unfortunate man with a name starting with the letter K very lonely, indeed.”
“Right!” With her raven hair glittering in the firelight, Rhianna triumphantly held the charred peel up as if it were a trophy of war, and whooped like a savage.
“What about ye, Miss Lockhart?” the brunette, who must then be Liza, asked shyly. “What did yer apple peel say? Mine was an N … or an S, I suppose.”
Mena forced a laugh. “I’m much too old for such games, and I’m not of a mind to be married.”
Because she already was, and it had been a nightmare.
“It doesna matter!” Rhianna insisted, her dark eyes glittering with mischief. “It’s not like you have to marry. The apple peel just tells who ye would marry if ye were of a mind.” She repeated her words with a mocking giggle.
“Really, I—”
“Oh, come on, Miss Lockhart!” they all begged, pulling at her sleeves and half dragging her toward the fires.
“Just try it once!”
“It’ll be fun!”
“Please?”
Feeling rather harassed, yet enjoying the barrage of attention from energetic young women, Mena shrugged. What harm could it do?
She glanced at Jani who still studied the apple peel with a fierce expression. Though when he turned back to her, he summoned a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Mena reached out and gave his hand one soft squeeze.
“Andrew!” Rhianna bellowed in a rather unladylike fashion across the fires to her brother, who lingered with Rune by the handsome tables laden with food. “Bob an apple for Miss Lockhart!”
Dark hair already gleaming with moisture, Andrew flashed a rare smile, tossed whatever he’d been snacking on to Rune, and lustily dove into the dark liquid of the nearby barrel face-first. His skinny legs kicked comically in his struggle, and even the solemn Jani laughed at his antics.
After emerging victorious, he slicked his hair back once more, and pilfered a knife from the tables. Simultaneously peeling and walking, Andrew presented her with a brilliant smile and the smooth red flesh of an autumn apple. “Ye have to throw it over yer shoulder and doona look until it starts to burn, or it willna work,” he whispered.
“Got it.” Mena winked and turned her back to the fire and was ready to throw the peel behind her.
“Wait!” Rhianna stopped her. “We have to say the spell over it first.”
All the youngsters nodded in solemn agreement.
“The spell?” Mena echoed.
To the Maiden Goddess of the land
The Crone please bless with divine hand
From the Mother’s fruit I hold
My future soul mate’s name is told.
Each of the girls’ voices blended to the verse beautifully and Mena figured that it should count for her peel. She backed closer to the fire until its searing warmth glowed through the back of her dress. Closing her eyes, she flicked the peel over her shoulder and was rewarded with a hiss.
When her eyes opened, all those who had previously been in front of her had vanished. Turning, she found them bent as close as they dared to read her theoretical fortune.
“Look! It’s a C like mine!” Rhianna pulled her close. As it singed and cooked, the peel did seem to be curling in upon itself.
“That’s not a C, look at that corner there!” Kayleigh pointed to where a flaw in the corner of the peel caused it to jut out, making a specific point. “It seems more like an L to me.”
“Let me look,” Andrew demanded, leaning closer and inspecting it with a scrupulous eye.
Mena’s heart pounded audibly when he turned to her with a look of solemn authentication. “Most definitely an L,” he confirmed.
The girls giggled and began to make lists of L names.
“Lucas or Lionel,” Kayleigh suggested.
“Aye,” Rhianna agreed vehemently, ticking off names on her fingers. “Or Lawrence, Logan, Lucius—”
“Liam,” Andrew offered quietly.
Mena froze as the party almost simultaneously made the connection, and their eyes searched each other’s, trying wordlessly to surmise what their reaction should be. The laird and the governess? Dare someone even suggest it?
After a breathless moment, Andrew’s face melted into the warmest smile she’d ever seen and Mena’s heart broke into gossamer pieces. She swallowed the shards and forced a smile.