Inside, Erne Rock Castle was a warm and friendly place. There were stone floors on the main level and beautifully polished wooden floors on the upper level. The Great Hall had two fireplaces alight with bright fires this May afternoon. It was not a large room at all, being no bigger than the family's private hall at Glenkirk, Fortune noted. There was a tapestry depicting St. Patrick driving the snakes from Ireland on one wall. The furniture was of glowing golden oak. There was a paneled and well-stocked library on the main floor as well as a room that Rory used to conduct estate business. The kitchens were located behind and below the Great Hall. On the second floor of the castle there were several bedrooms, each with its own fireplace.

Jasmine opened the door to the large bedchamber, and stepped back so her daughter might look inside. "Here is where you were born," she said softly. "Madame Skye's sister, the doctor nun, Eibhlin, delivered you into this world. You were the hardest of my babies, and were turned about the wrong way. I wagered Mam a gold piece that you were a boy."

"Were you disappointed?" asked Fortune, who had never heard this story before.

"Nay," Jasmine replied. "How could I be? You were a perfect little girl with your grandfather's mole just below your left nostril above your lip. But more important, you were your father's last gift to me, Fortune, and I loved him very much. You, India, and Henry were all I had left of Rowan Lindley, along with some sweet memories. It was the greatest legacy I have ever received."

"What happened to my grand-aunt Eibhlin?" Fortune wondered. "Is she still alive? Could we go and see her?"

Jasmine smiled. "Nay, poppet. Eibhlin O'Malley, God assoil her good soul, died almost two years after you were born." She wiped the tear that had come to her eye for thinking of Eibhlin made her think of her grandmother. Ireland, Jasmine decided, made her sad. Catching herself she said, "This will be your room now, poppet, for it is the chamber belonging to the head of the household."

"I am not the mistress of Erne Rock Castle yet, Mama," Fortune responded. "You and Papa take this room. I want one that overlooks the lough. If I take William Devers for my husband, then after we are wed I shall move into this room, but not now, Mama."

"You are sure?"

"Aye," Fortune replied, and then her look grew distressed. "Will it upset you, Mama, to share a room with Papa that you once shared with my father? Would you prefer to be in another chamber?"

"Nay, poppet," Jasmine told her daughter. "I have happy memories of your father here, but sad ones as well. Perhaps being with my Jemmie will erase those unhappy recollections, and I will come to recall Erne Rock only as a happy place, for you were born here, and will be wed here as well. My grandchildren will be born at Erne Rock."

"Perhaps," Fortune said.

Jasmine took her daughter by the hand, and together they sat upon the chamber's large bed. "Poppet, I have sensed a reluctance in you from the beginning regarding this marriage. It is natural for a maiden to be hesitant when facing her wedding, but I feel it is more than that with you, Fortune. What bothers you, my daughter?"

"You and Papa keep saying that I don't have to wed this William Devers if I do not like him. Yet at the same time you speak as if it is just a matter of time before we meet and are married. I am not you, Mama. I do not want my husband chosen for me. I want to choose my own husband! You have brought me from my home to a strange place, and you expect me to marry a stranger. What if I really don't want to marry William Devers? What will happen to me then?" Fortune's blue-green eyes were troubled.

"If you really do not like this young man," Jasmine answered her, "then that will be the end of it, but what makes you think you won't like him? Is it only because you do not know him? Fortune, it is true that my father, the Mughal, chose my first husband for me. I did not not see Prince Jamal Khan until the hour in which we were wed. My parents chose wisely, however, and I was happy, with him. My grandmother chose your father, although I did know him beforehand; and old King James chose your stepfather, whom I also knew. Sometimes your elders know better, Fortune, but if you truly dislike this young man, you do not have to marry him. Neither Jemmie nor I want you unhappy."

"None of us knows this William Devers," Fortune said darkly.

"My cousin, Father Cullen Butler, knows of him. The Reverend Mr. Steen knows him. They feel he is a most suitable and eligible candidate for your hand, poppet. Perhaps he is, and perhaps he isn't. Only time will tell. We shall see what we shall see," Jasmine told her daughter. "However, since his family has been approached, it is only proper that we give this young man a fair hearing."

"Aye," Fortune agreed, although not enthusiastically.

Jasmine stood up. "Come, and let us join the gentlemen down in the hall. I imagine that my cousin has arrived by now."

Together mother and daughter descended, coming into the hall arm in arm. Rory Maguire and James Leslie stood speaking with a white-haired priest in his black robes. Jasmine broke from her daughter's side, and hurried forth.

"Cullen Butler! Ohh, I am so happy to see you again! And looking so well, too. Thank you for helping to keep the peace at Maguire's Ford." Putting her arms about her cousin, Jasmine kissed him on both cheeks.

"And look at you, Yasamin Kama Begum," he said. "Yer as beautiful as ever, and you the mother of a houseful of children," he told her, hugging her back, his blue eyes sparkling with pleasure.

"And a grandmother too, Cullen. A little boy named after Rowan, and a baby girl, Adrianna," Jasmine said, smiling.

The priest's eyes went to Fortune, his heart leaping at the sight of her flaming red hair. His face, however, was a mask of calm and welcome. "And this must be Lady Fortune Mary, whom I baptized myself all those years ago. Welcome back to Ireland, my child."

Fortune curtsied, smiling at Cullen Butler. In him she sensed a friend, and an ally. "Thank you, Father."

He raised her up, and kissed her soundly on her cheeks. "Cousin Cullen when we are en famille, my child. Well, you surely have grown since last I saw you. And hair like your great-great-grandmother O'Malley, a Scots lass from the Isle of Skye, you have. I never knew her for she died before I was born, but she had hair like a flame, they said."

He is yet quick and clever, Adali thought, standing at the edge of the hall. Madame Skye would be pleased, but then she chose him herself all those years ago, and sent him out to India to watch over my mistress. Still he has put it into their heads that Lady Fortune's hair is a family trait even though none of her siblings, or cousins, have tresses of such an outrageous color. He smiled to himself, satisfied.

"I should like to meet the Reverend Mr. Steen," Jasmine said.

"I invited him to come with me and greet you," the priest replied, "but he felt we should be allowed a small time for a family reunion. He will come tomorrow."

"And the Deverses? When are we to meet them?" Jasmine continued.

"Next week. They have been invited to come and stay for three days so the young people may see if they like one another," Cullen Butler said. Then he turned to Fortune. "Are you anxious to meet yer intended, my child? He's a handsome fellow, I can tell you," he chuckled.

"He is not my intended until I decide if we like one another, and will suit," Fortune responded. "I won't marry a man I can't love."

"Nor should you, lassie," the priest said. "Marriage is a wonderful sacrament, and should be treated with respect, Fortune Mary. Still, I like what I hear of young Master Devers, and I believe you will too."

"Poppet, go with Adali. He will show you the rest of the castle," Jasmine said. "If it becomes yours, then you should know everything you can about it." She waved her daughter off with her faithful servant.

"She's hesitant, and 'tis natural, of course," the priest noted. "How old is she now?"

"Twenty this summer," Jasmine told him.

"A bit long in the tooth to be playing the reluctant virgin," muttered the duke of Glenkirk. "She should hae been wed several years ago, and would hae been but for her obstinate older sister."

"Now, Jemmie, you promised us you would not fuss with Fortune. If you do you will only make her dig her heels in harder. If she and William Devers do not suit it will be unfortunate, but hardly the end of the world, my darling." Jasmine laughed. "There is a man out there in the world who is just right for Fortune, and she will find him in her good time. Of that I am certain."

"Yer beginning to sound more like yer grandmother every day," James Leslie grumbled. "In this day and age a maid must have a husband. We've found her a perfectly respectable young man from a good family, who, I am told, is handsome and well formed; and who is to have a respectable inheritance one day. She's lucky the lad will consider someone as old as she is. Twenty is practically past time to wed."

"Bridal nerves," Cullen Butler assured the duke. "Once she meets with young William she will be reassured, my lord. I guarantee it."

"Rory?" James Leslie looked to the estate manager for some sort of confirmation and reassurance.

"I've heard nothing bad about him, my lord. His mother rules the roost up in Lisnaskea, I'm told, but the young couple will be living here at Erne Rock. He's a fine lad, they say, although I prefer his elder brother myself," Rory Maguire told the duke.