Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  Moray chuckled. "And hit the second floor window?" he wondered. Adam cringed, but Moray loosed himself from Lady Stewart's grasp and knelt before the children. He set his hand on Adam's wet hair and caught the young boy's gaze. "That was quite a throw. How did you manage with such soft snow?"

  The children perked up and Heather raised her head. "It was my idea!" she spoke up. The little girl took off her mittens and grabbed some snow between her hands. She pressed the snow and opened her hands to reveal the packed ball in her red fingers. "See? It makes my hands cold, but we can throw them much farther."

  "It's because you're a girl," Adam scolded her. He picked up snow with his bare hands and repeated his sister's invention. I noticed his hands were as red as those of his sister. "See? It's easy."

  "So I see. Your new invention frightened this woman-" he gestured to me, "-very much."

  I scowled at him. "It did no such thing!" I insisted.

  Heather turned to me and hung her head. "We didn't mean to, miss, honest."

  My temperament softened at the look of such an impish angel. I closed my eyes and shook my head. "There's no need to apologize. I really wasn't that scared. It just startled me, that's all."

  The little girl smiled and held out her snowball to me. "Would you like this?"

  I grinned. "I'm not sure. I might be tempted to throw it at you," I teased.

  "Then you can play with us!" Adam spoke up. He dashed over to me and handed me his snowball. "If you throw a snowball you can't cry when you get hit. That's the rules."

  "That sounds fair enough," I agreed.

  "Adam! Heather!" a voice called from the depths of the maze. Heather and Adam slipped behind me and tried to hide behind my legs.

  A woman of thirty appeared from the left-hand path. She wore a thick, coarse woolen cloak and her hair was braided like that of Heather. Her boots were of course cow skin, but a pair of fine gloves covered her hands and a thick woolen scarf, dyed red, was wrapped around her neck.

  She glanced in our direction and started before she placed a hand on her chest. "My laird, you startled me," she commented as she moved to stand before our small group. Her eyes fell on me and on the young lumps behind my legs. The woman frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Heather! Adam! You come away from the young lady at once!"

  The children hung their heads and shuffled from their hiding spots to stand before their irate mother.

  "We only wanted to play with them," Heather insisted.

  "And we didn't mean to scare the lady," Adam spoke up. Heather glared at her brother, and their mother frowned at both of them.

  "What have you done now, you naughty children!" she scolded them. She turned her attention to Lord Moray and bowed to him. "My laird, if they have caused you any grief-" He held up his hand and shook his head.

  "No. On the contrary. They have led us on a merry chase that we found quite challenging," he argued.

  "I would much rather have hunted a deer. . ." I heard Lady Stewart mumble.

  "We were?" Adam gasped as a smile slid onto his pale lips. He jumped at Moray and tugged on the man's fine fur coat. "Were we hard to find? Did we lose you?"

  "Several times," Moray assured him.

  Adam turned away and rushed to his smiling sister. They clasped hands and swung around in a circle.

  "We lost the laird! We lost the laird!" they chanted in glee.

  "Children!" their mother scolded them. She turned to us and bowed. "A thousand more apologies, my-" Moray held up his hand and shook his head upon which was a wide smile.

  "There will never been a need for you to apologize for your children," he assured her. "I see fine futures for them both."

  She smiled and bowed her head. "That is a great blessing coming from you, my laird."

  "My laird," Lady Stewart spoke up as she wrapped her arms once more around his. "Can we not return to the house? I am practically frozen."

  Lord Moray turned his eyes on me, and I blushed under the dark gaze. "Have you any qualms with the weather, Abigail?" he asked me.

  I shook my head. "No, I'm fine," I assured him.

  He returned his attention to Stewart. "Then as a werewolf you would be in less need of warmth."

  Lady Stewart puckered out her lip in a pout. "A werewolf can only handle the cold for so long in their human form," she retorted.

  "We must ourselves leave, my laird," the mother spoke up as she gathered her children to her.

  "But we want to play with the laird!" Adam protested.

  "And the nice lady!" Heather pleaded. I noticed Lady Stewart's lips pursed together and her eyes narrowed.

  "Perhaps later," Lord Moray told them.

  "You promise?" Adam questioned him.

  "Adam!" his mother scolded him.

  Moray crossed his arm over his chest and bowed to them. "On my word as a laird of Moray," he swore.

  "Then tomorrow?" Heather pleaded.

  "Tomorrow," he agreed.

  "You are most gracious, my laird," their mother complimented him before she pushed her children onward. "Come now. It's almost dinner."

  "I'm hungry, as well," Stewart whined.

  "And you, Abigail?" the lord asked me.

  My stomach grumbled and I pressed my hand on it to quell its noise. "I am a little hungry," I admitted.

  "Then we will return for some food," he agreed.

  CHAPTER 14

  Lady Stewart resumed her place on his arm and we three returned to the house. The warmth of the fire in the dining room was much appreciated, but I looked warily around us at the dark corners that inhabited the room. Lady Stewart floated around the room and her eyes swept over the large hearth and fine table and chairs.

  "You really must convince Laird Stewart to follow your taste in furniture. He still holds the middle ages as a high point in fashion," she bemoaned.

  "We each have our own tastes," Moray philosophically commented as he joined me on the other side of the wide hearth. In his hands was a glass of wine. "Would you like some refreshment?" he asked me.

  I shook my head and rubbed my hands together. "I am fine," I assured him.

  "Wouldn't it be grand to meet the White Lady?" Stewart spoke up as she whisked over to Moray and wrapped her arms around his again.

  Moray smiled down at her, but I noticed the humor didn't extend to his dark eyes. "To become my lady?" he guessed.

  She laughed. "That would certainly be a great boon, but to see a ghost, a real one, would be most amusing."

  I watched the crackling wood burn among the fire and remembered the pale figure that stood beside its flames. She had looked so sad and lonely.

  "You would not think so. . ." I murmured.

  Lady Stewart turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

  I shook my head and smiled at her. "I am sure it would be a terrifying experience."

  "And you forget that the lady only appears to those who are alone in the room," Moray reminded her.

  She sighed and released him to settle herself in the chair at the end of the table. "I did find myself alone in this very room many times when I was young. You know how many times you dared me, and I added twice as many as that when I snuck down when my father and I stayed at your father's invitation."

  Swain stepped into the room and bowed to us. "Dinner is ready if you wish for it to be served, my laird," he announced.

  "Oh yes! Let's eat!" Lady Stewart commanded as she jumped to her feet.

  Swain looked to Moray, who nodded. "That would be fine, Swain," Moray confirmed.

  Swain bowed to us again and disappeared into the servant hallway. In a moment a few of the kitchen staff entered with trays of food in their hands. Our places were already set, and we took our seats. Lady Stewart took the superior right side of Moray, and I the lesser left.

  The conversation went very smoothly. Lady Stewart took control of the topics, and Moray and I merely listened to her prattle. I wondered how he managed to listen to her speak of herself for so long without once chan
ging the subject. For my part I looked at my plate and ate my food in silence. My thoughts still lingered on the White Lady, and what her presence meant.

  A voice jarred me from my reverie. "Is it not to your liking?"

  I looked up and realized it had been the lord who spoke to me. He gazed upon me with a smile that reached his eyes. I chewed the food in my mouth, swallowed, and shook my head.

  "No, it's quite delicious," I assured him.

  "When do you think this horrible snow will stop falling?" Lady Stewart interrupted.

  I glanced out the window and saw that the flakes still fell, but they were not as large.

  "Perhaps tomorrow," Lord Moray guessed.

  A stab of pain shot into my heart, and try as I did I could not quell the emotion of regret. The lord promised I could leave when the storm passed. It seemed my stay here would be short.

  Lady Stewart was all smiles. "Excellent! Then we can take a walk in the Gardens and perhaps a carriage ride after-"

  "Have you forgotten my promise to the children?" Moray reminded her.

  She wrinkled her nose and waved her hand at him. "I know you only made that promise to get them away. You needn't keep to it."

  I frowned at her. "But he swore on his oath as a lord," I pointed out.

  She glared back at me. "A gentleman may break his promises when he wills it."

  "Then he is no gentleman," I argued.

  "Ladies, if I may interrupt. Our food grows cold, and this room is not the warmest in the house," Moray spoke up.

  We finished our meal in sullen silence, and I was glad when the dishes were swept away and we stood. Moray offered me his arm before Stewart, but I shook my head.

  "I would rather rest in my room," I told him.

  His face fell. "Are you sure?"

  "Very much so." I bowed to them. "If you would excuse me."

  I hurried past them and out of the room. Never did I breathe freer air as I did at that moment. That woman who called herself a lady was insufferable! I could see why her husband could not stand her selfish and rude ways!

  My mind was filled with dark thoughts as I walked up the stairs and down the eastern hall to my chambers. I was only ten yards short of my door when a cold draft swept down the corridor. The chill sank into my bones and sent a shiver over my flesh. I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered. My eyes widened when I beheld a white puff of air emerge from my mouth.

  A creaking noise came from behind me. I swung around, but there was no one. The hallway suddenly felt very dark and solitary. I kept my eyes over my shoulder and hurried on my way to my door. I faced ahead and reached out for the handle, but someone stood in my path.

  The White Lady.

  The ghost stood very still, though her garments floated as though in a soft breeze. Her form disappeared just below her ankles, and her arms were spread apart on either side of her. She looked at me with pleading eyes and a wave of sadness descended over me like a wet cloth. Her form stood beside my door and barred my way. I shook my head and stumbled back.

  "I cannot help you," I choked out. She floated towards me as stiff as a board. I tripped over my own feet and fell to the ground. Her transparent form came closer, and I raised my arms to protect myself. "Please let me be! I cannot remain here!"

  She bent down and descended on me. I shut my eyes and turned my face away as a scream burst from my lips. A chill as cold as a river of ice sank into me. I fell into a shallow faint.

  "Abby!" a voice shouted. A pair of arms grasped mine and lifted me so I sat up. My eyes fluttered open and I looked into the pale face of Mrs. Greer. "Abby, what's the matter? What's happened?"

  "H-her," I choked out.

  There was the sound of heavy footsteps, and Moray came into my sight. He knelt beside me, and a little ways behind him was Lady Stewart. His strong hands replaced Greer's trembling ones.

  "What's happened here?" he questioned his housekeeper.

  "She's had a fainting spell. It must be the weather," Greer replied.

  "Let us get her to bed," he suggested. He lifted me into his arms, and I was comforted by the scent and warmth of his person. The lord carried me the short distance to my chambers where he laid me on the bed. "Some brandy," he ordered his servant.

  Greer bowed and swept from the room. Lady Stewart stepped up to the foot of the bed and studied me with narrow eyes.

  "I don't see what all the fuss is about. She doesn't look so bad," she commented.

  Moray whipped his head to her and pursed his lips. "Would you please leave us for a few minutes?" he requested.

  She turned up her nose. "Very well. If that's how you feel about my company." She spun on her heels and marched from the room.

  Moray waited a few moments before he returned his attention to me. He pressed his palm against my forehead and frowned. His hand felt like fire on my icy skin.

  "Did you go outside?" he asked me.

  I shook my head just as the door opened and Greer stepped inside. She held a tray with a hot bowl of soup and the requested brandy with its glass. "No, it was her. The White Lady. She-" I closed my eyes and shuddered, "-she attacked me. In the hallway."

  Moray started back and his eyes widened. "The hallway?"

  Mrs. Greer placed the tray on my nightstand, and glanced at the lord. "Could she truly have seen her up here?" she asked him.

  My eyes widened and I sat up. "I did-" A faintness swept over me and I fell back on my pillows.

  Moray placed his hands on my shoulders and pressed me to the bed. "Don't try to move too quickly," he ordered me.

  "I know I'm not lying," I persisted. "She stood at my door and when I tried to flee she fell on me." A look passed between Greer and Moray that I could not understand. "What? What is it?"

  Moray turned to me with worried eyes. "The White Lady has never been seen any part of the house except the dining hall," he explained.

  "But I did-"

  "We believe you, but we find it very strange she should appear to you anywhere outside the dining room," he replied.

  I leaned back on the pillows and closed my eyes. "Has the snow stopped?" I whispered.

  "Not yet," came Moray's reply. His hand rested on mine that were clasped over my chest. "But rest now."

  "What of the brandy, my laird?" Greer wondered.

  "She has no need of it," he assured her.

  That was the last I heard before exhaustion cradled me in the arms of sleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next I knew was darkness, but not the shades of sleep. This was the darkness of night. My eyes opened and I saw that my chambers were enveloped in blackness. There was only the fire in the hearth, but its flickering flames cast long shadows across the room.

  Images of the White Lady came to my mind. I could imagine her ghostly hands reaching out to grab me and throttle me. I grasped the top of the sheets and shrank beneath them. The minutes crawled by and all remained still. I risked a peek from the sheets and saw that nothing had happened.

  I sat up and glanced over the room. There was no reason for my awakening, and yet I found myself wide awake. I flung aside the covers and swung my legs over the bed, and it was then that I noticed my attire had changed. I wore the same nightgown as I had the previous night.

  There! A strange sensation arose in me, but only for a moment. I clutched the front of my nightgown and furrowed my brow. It was a tugging of sorts. Something inside me commanded that I follow my senses.

  I slid off the high bed and over to the door where I peeked my head out. The corridor was empty and all the lamps were extinguished. The hour must have been late for I heard nothing else stir. I slipped out of the room and shut the door behind me. My footsteps tread lightly along the carpeted floor as I walked past door after closed door, ever onward at the bidding of the strange tug inside me.

  My steps led me across the house to the upper west wing. The higher floor was renovated to match the rest of the elegant house, and on either side of me were the doors of countless room
s. I paused and leaned one hand against the wall as I clutched my chest. The infernal tugging grew stronger. It quickened my heart and heated my body as though I stood before a hot fire. My skin felt warm to the touch and I panted for breath. Still the sense urged me onward, and I had no choice but to obey.

  My feet padded down the carpet and I turned the corner to view the most western passage. The hallway was darker than those through which I had already traveled, and the handles on the doors held a thin layer of dust. Though the wallpaper was new the air was stifling as though a great age seeped from the very walls. In the far distance was a single window at the end of the wing. The faint light of the outside world gave the illusion of a giant glowing eye that watched my every move.

  I tread along the carpet and my light feet caused the floor to groan beneath me. Each groan broke the silence around me and made me wince. I reached the end of the hallway and realized I stood somewhere above the entrance to the dungeon. Before me was the window, no longer a fearsome eye, and on either side of me was a door. One had dust on its handle, but the other was lacking in the dirt.

  My eyes traveled downward and I saw a faint glow from beneath the floor. I reached out and with a simple push the door swung open. The windows were new and allowed fresh light into the dim area. My illuminated view revealed chambers with a roughly hewn stone floor and the same walls. The floor was carpeted with oriental rugs and a fire burned in the large hearth. A bed like my own stood opposite me and the fire stood at my left.

  Before the fire, attired only in his pants, stood Lord Moray. One of his hands was set the mantel and he gazed into the crackling fire. The flickering light illuminated his face and cast his shadow over the bed behind him.

  I blushed and a hand flew to my face to cover my red cheeks. "I-I apologize. I hadn't meant-"

  "Of course you did. Enter," he commanded.

  Propriety demanded I leave, but the heated sensation inside me ordered me to enter. I entered and closed the door behind me. The lord turned to me and his eyes blazed with a familiar yellow hue. It was the look of the beast that I had glimpsed the previous night before our sensual encounter. I pressed my hands against my chest, but my feet, unbidden, moved me so I stood before him. He gazed into my eyes with such lustful intensity that my body was lit aflame by an aching need.

  I bit my lip and looked away. "I-I should leave. . ." I murmured, but without conviction.