Scent of Scotland

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Scent of Scotland Page 21

by Mac Flynn


  "I would show you the house, but as you can see my husband has a dreary sense of fashion," she commented.

  "It is very interesting," I agreed as we rushed past ancient, weathered oak tables with thick legs.

  The walls of the hall through which we hurried were paneled in a dark, depressing wood. The windows to our right were dark with age and I shivered at the breeze that swept through their leaky frames. Lady Stewart waved her free hand to the walls and windows as we passed.

  "See in what prison I bear my unburden?" she bemoaned.

  "It is rather gloomy," I agreed.

  We reached the last door on the second floor and the lady swept me inside. It was a deep but comfortable chamber with windows that faced the rear of the house. There was a tall, four-post bed, a large hearth, and a small table with two chairs. Rugs dampened the echoing of sound and warmed the feet from the chilly wood floors.

  I noticed the grounds behind the house were as wild in appearance as the moor, and there were many gray mounds in the far distance just before the ground changed into fields that I assumed were piles of stones.

  Lady Stewart seated herself in one of the chairs at the table and sighed. "You haven't any clue how glad I am to see a smiling face. My husband has been nothing but bitter to me since our row at Castle Moray."

  I took a seat in the other chair and my hands fidgeted in my lap. "I'm sorry to hear that," I replied.

  "My dear Abigail, whatever is the matter? You look pale," she commented.

  I bit my lip and looked down at my lip. "I'm afraid our reason for coming is more than just a friendly visit. I. . .I broke the vial you gave to me."

  Lady Stewart stiffened and her eyes narrowed. "That was very careless of you, and that glass was very hard. How did it happen to break?" she sharply asked me.

  I cringed. "I. . .I was careless of its packing in my purse, and when I stepped from the carriage it fell to the ground and broke atop a stone."

  She relaxed. "I see. What will you do now?" she wondered.

  "I. . .I wish to have a new one," I pleaded.

  A smile slipped onto Lady Stewart's lips and her eyes lit up with a strange sparkle. Never did I behold a more predatory look in a human face.

  "Then you wish to join us?"

  CHAPTER 41

  I nodded. "Yes. The lord-Moray, that is-he's-well-" I closed my eyes and averted my face from her prying eyes. "He was overprotective of me. He wouldn't let me leave the house without him as an escort."

  Lady Stewart sighed and shook her head. "It was only a matter of time before it happened, but I am sorry for you that it occurred so quickly."

  "But it's not just his possessiveness that scares me," I added. "During our stay in Edinburgh Moray's servant was gravely injured by someone. He-" I covered my face with my hands and shuddered. "He was beaten nearly to death."

  The lady's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. "My goodness! But he will live, will he not?"

  I dropped my hands and nodded. "He will, but he doesn't have any recollection of what happened, nor who could have done such a thing to him. Moray assumes it is amnesia, and is grateful it doesn't effect more of the man's faculties."

  She set her hand on my shoulder and shook her head. "I can certainly see why you would wish to escape him. And here I was complaining of my own mistreatment when you've been through so great an ordeal so much more quickly than I." Her eyes studied me and the smile on her lips tensed. "And speaking of Edinburgh, I had a letter from my friend. The one I suggested you visit."

  I stiffened, but kept the smile on my face as I looked at her. "I'm afraid I wasn't a proper guest, and insulting him rather badly."

  "He also wishes to send his apologies," she revealed. "He hadn't meant to frighten you so, but you see this-well, this business has him rather on edge."

  I shrank from her as though her words had injured me. "Is it so dangerous, this fleeing from our mates?" I asked her.

  She leaned back and nodded. "It may be if any were to betray us, or my friend, the Laird Robertson." Her eyes flickered to the door and she lowered her voice. "You see, if any of the women were to inform their mates then the laird and I would be forced to-well, perhaps it is too gruesome to mention in fine company."

  "You would be forced to what?" I persisted.

  A cold, sly smile slipped onto her lips as she studied my face. "We would be forced to kill both the informant and her mate."

  I felt the color drain from my face. "H-how awful."

  Lady Stewart sighed and nodded her head. "It is, is it not? But come, there's no cause for concern." She reached across the short distance between us and cupped my chin in her cold hand. Her smile crinkled the sides of her eyes with crow's feet and her sharp teeth made my blood run cold. "You are one of us, and we are glad to have you."

  "A-are there many?" I stuttered.

  She released my chin and shrugged. "Not so many to fight against the lairds, but more than enough to garner an escape a great blow to their pride."

  Lady Stewart stood and strode over to the mantel. She swept her hand underneath the mantel and a small hole opened in the wall to the left of the fire. A small, silver-colored box inlaid with silver studs lay inside the hole. She took the box and returned to the table where she set it before herself. The lady opened the lid and revealed three rows of twelve vials each. They were the same that held the poisonous wolf's bane.

  My heart quickened. Here was a piece of evidence that would confirm to even the most disbelieving that the Lord and Lady Stewart were not as they seemed.

  Lady Stewart took one from an end and held it out to me. I reached for the vial, but she drew her hand back and studied my face.

  "You swear not to lose this one?" she teased.

  I nodded, perhaps too eagerly. "I swear it."

  She smiled and handed me the vial. "Then keep it in a safer place than your purse. Perhaps you have a money bag or something small in which to hide the vial and mask its contents."

  I looked down at the vial in my trembling hand. "Would the contents be recognized by K-Moray?" I asked her, correcting myself from saying his Christian name.

  "Perhaps, but we shouldn't take any chances," she advised me as she replaced the box back into its hole. The wall shut and even I couldn't tell where it had been. She turned to me with a smile and clapped her hands together. "But enough of such business. I wonder what we shall do first on your visit." She paused and furrowed her brow. "How long had you planned to remain here?"

  I shook my head. "I do not know. As long as Moray would allow, I presume."

  "Well, that is quite long enough for a walk around the grounds," she suggested. "That is, if you are not exhausted from your journey."

  I pocketed the vial into the drawstring bag around my wrist and stood with a smile. My thoughts remained on the box within the wall, but I could not arouse suspicion by refusing such a simple request.

  "I would like that very much," I told her.

  She stepped over to me and looped her arm through one of mine. "Then a walk it is! I will show you what few delights there are in this dreary place."

  Lady Stewart led me downstairs to the entrance hall. To the left of the entrance hall was an open door, and through it I could see the gentlemen. The room was a small parlor with a hearth opposite the door, and furniture arranged around the crackling fire. Weak light from the front windows lifted some of the shadows, but I felt an oppressive weight in every part of the house. It was as though the dark and hideous secret kept by the owners permeated the very walls.

  I shook off the feeling. It wouldn't do well to have a constant aura of fear around me. The men in the parlor each held a glass in hand. Ken sat in a cushioned chair, and Lord Stewart stood beside the mantel. Their chatter floated into the hall.

  "Have you thought of updating the house?" Ken asked him.

  "I may changes the windows and walls, but not before money falls my way," Lord Stewart commented.

  Lady Stewart jerked to a stop. Her fa
ce was a picture of fury and disgust. She released me and marched into the parlor. Her husband stood at attention, and Ken also stood at her coming with me close behind.

  "It is only your cheap nature that keeps this house dark," Lady Stewart snapped at her husband.

  He pressed his lips together and stiffly bowed his head. "My lady. It is always a pleasure to be scolded by you."

  "Where are you two off at such an hour?" Ken spoke up.

  Lady Stewart turned to him with a smile. She absently waved her hand towards the front of the house. "I thought we would take a short walk."

  "At this late an hour?" her husband in his turn scolded her.

  She whipped her head to him and her eyes narrowed. "Aye, at this hour. All hours are the same when the house is as dark as it is."

  "Might we accompany you?" Ken requested.

  Lady Stewart returned her attention to Ken and smiled. "Oh, you needn't concern yourself with us, my laird. I was merely going to show your lady some of the grounds."

  "I would enjoy one myself," Ken admitted. "It's been many years since I was last here, and I'm sure much has changed."

  "Not as much as you think, my laird," the lady insisted as her dark eyes fell on her husband. "He refuses to change much of anything on account of the expense."

  Lord Stewart stood straight and raised his nose in the air. "I is your insistence on your appearance that keeps us so poor."

  "My hosts, if you would. The hour grows later even as we speak, and I would like to see if the grounds are as well stocked with game as they once were," Ken pleaded.

  Lady Stewart sighed and curtsied to him. "As you wish, my laird. We ladies will follow you."

  We left the parlor, gathered our coats and warm things in the entrance hall, and were led by our hosts onto the raised portico. Our small group paused at the edge of the portico where it dropped three feet to the ground. The sun had two hours life left in it, and the weather, though gray, was not chilled by any wind.

  "What did you wish to see first?" Lord Stewart asked us.

  "I thought to take Abigail to the moors, but there's little game there," Lady Stewart informed him.

  "A walk on the moors is nonetheless an experience," Ken replied as he turned to the other lord. "Would you think me a poor guest if we walked with these ladies into that wild country?"

  "It is rather boring, but if you insist," Lord Stewart hesitated.

  "Then let us be off," Ken stated.

  CHAPTER 42

  We walked down the right-side stairs of the portico and onto the lawn. There was twenty yards to the end of the grass, and beyond that lay wild grass and flowers. A path led from the lawn and over the closest low hill of the moors. The men led the way. Lady Stewart looped her arm through mine and pulled me back so there grew a distance of thirty feet between the men and us. She leaned towards me and her breath ghosted over my ear.

  "Do you not see how protective your lord is in following us?" she whispered to me.

  I nodded. "I must agree it is strange."

  "Even stranger that Moray would suggest they see what can be hunted, and then changes his purpose to follow us," she commented. Her dark eyes fell on me with a scrutinizing gaze. "Can you think why he wouldn't trust you with me? I am female, after all."

  My pulse quickened at her mild accusation, but I shook my head. "I can't think of any reason other than what you've suggested to me, that he doesn't wish for me to leave his sight."

  She pursed her lips, but pulled away from me. We crested the first hill and were given a better view of the moors than the one from the road. The snow-covered land had here and there a bowled patch of green among the rocks. The moors seemed to stretch on forever as, in the distance, its white wonderland melded with the gray sky. I looked out over the vast expanse of low-lying hills and tall, wild grass in awe and curiosity. There were a few spattering of rock bluffs that, like where we stood, gave good views of the area.

  "Have you been upon moors before?" Lady Stewart asked me.

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Let me show you something," she pleaded.

  The men ahead of us followed a well-worn path made by man and animal. Lady Stewart turned us off to a less clear path to our right. It dipped down between the first hill and the next, but ended at a rocky outcropping some twenty yards distant. The path was a mix of mud, snow, ice and rocks. I as a human stumbled over the myriad of dangers, but Lady Stewart, who followed ahead of me, had no trouble.

  We reached the outcropping and I caught my breath. The rocks on which we stood ended over a hollow in the ground that resembled a bowl. The men had noticed our diversion from the path and stood forty yards off ahead of us. Ken's face was too far to decipher his expression, but he faced me with such a stiff posture that I had no doubt he was nervous.

  I stepped forward to wave at him, but Lady Stewart grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back. My feet slipped on the rocks and I nearly tumbled feet-first down the slope anyway. Ken jumped forward, but Lord Stewart grasped his shoulders and prevented his coming to help me.

  "My goodness, Abigail!" Lady Stewart scolded me as she turned me loose three feet from the edge. "What a fright you gave me!"

  "You a fright? Why did you pull me back so?" I asked her.

  "Because I wished to save you," she told me.

  "Are the moors very dangerous?" I asked her.

  Lady Stewart smiled and pressed the tip of one of her shoes against a small stone. She kicked it and the stone rolled over the edge of the bluff. There was a patch of grass beneath us, but I was shocked when the rock hit the ground with a great splash. It sank into the depths of the invisible water. The ripples were the only testament to its fall.

  My mouth gaped open. "What is that?" I wondered.

  "That is the quicksand of the moors, a hole where there is more water than earth," she explained. She walked to the edge and looked down with a cold, calculating expression on her face. This was the first time I had seen such a look of deep cunning and dark fascination. "Animals sometimes wander carelessly into the moors, and never return. The earth swallows them whole and nothing of them is ever found."

  Her words sent a chill down my spine. I sensed that she spoke not of animals but of humans, and I was not so foolish as to forget I was of that species. Her eyes, too, flickered to me, and a sly smile slipped onto her pale lips.

  "It would be a fitting punishment for anyone who would betray our plan, wouldn't it?" she asked me.

  I stood frozen to the ground, but not for the cold from the wintry weather. Her comment was a terrifying reminder of her warning from earlier.

  She seemed not to notice my sudden silence as she chatted on. "I suppose you could say you owe me a great deal of gratitude. I may have just saved your life," she added.

  I pressed my arms against my chest and glanced from the edge of the rock to Lady Stewart's face. Dark implications swarmed through my mind as I realized that it was she who had brought me to this point, and only through her choice of grabbing me had my possible death been averted.

  I shivered and tried to hide my fear with a bow of my head. "I can never thank you enough."

  Lady Stewart set a hand on my shoulder and grinned. "Don't think too much of it, Abigail. After all, we captives must help one another and be true to each other."

  I managed a shaky smile and gave a nod. "You're right."

  She laughed and looped her arm through mine. "Of course I am right, my dear Abigail, for what woman is wrong?"

  We rejoined the men halfway down our path. Ken's face was paler than before, but he held himself back from touching me.

  "That was quite a scare you gave us, my dear," Lord Stewart told his spouse. "Whatever made you go that way?"

  "I thought to show Abigail the wonderful view from the rocks, and it was only through my lack of warning that she nearly became a part of the scenery," Lady Stewart joked.

  "Perhaps we should return to the house," Ken suggested.

  Lady Stewart wrapped her s
tole closer to her shoulders and looked up at the skies. "Aye, it does appear the weather's to worsen. Pity. I hoped to show Abigail more than just the first pile of rocks."

  "I believe I've seen enough," I spoke up in full earnestness.

  "Then let us return and refresh ourselves with some drink before supper," Lord Stewart offered.

  We returned to the house and our heavy coverings were removed from our bodies. Lady Stewart pulled me towards the parlor, but Ken stepped between the door and us. His eyes were hardened, but I saw a speck of something more in their depths. They flickered towards the stairs to my right.

  "You are fatigued," he told me. He gestured to the stairs. "I would rather you go to your room and rest until supper."

  Lady Stewart frowned. "You sound more like my husband every day, Moray."

  "It is only because I care about my mate, but I will have no arguments. I would have her rest," he insisted.

  Lady Stewart sighed and turned to me. "Come, Abigail. We shall have a fine chat in your chambers."

  "I will escort her," Ken told her.

  Lady Stewart raised an eyebrow. "You needn't do that, my laird."

  "Aye. Come into the parlor with me and have a drink to warm you," the lord suggested.

  "I will only be gone for a moment," he assured our hosts. Ken slipped between Lady Stewart and me, and looped our arms together. He bowed his head to them. "If you will excuse us."

  CHAPTER 43

  Ken led me up the stairs to the second floor. Our shared room was situated near the stairs, and we found our luggage was unpacked and set into the drawers of a dresser. A warm fire crackled in the large hearth, and the windows, like those of Lady Stewart's room, looked out over the rear of the house.

  Ken guided me over to our own four-post bed and seated me at the foot. He took a seat beside me and my heart was gladdened when he took my hands in his own. His eyes searched my face and he pursed his lips.

  "We must hope your face betrays to my eyes only that something has happened to upset you, and I feel it is more than just the incident on the moors," he commented.

  I closed my eyes and nodded. "It is more than just the moors, but they are thoroughly connected." I took a deep, shuddering breath, and told him what had transpired in the chambers at the end of the hall.

 

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