The Laird's Lady

by Patti Schenberger

  Devin forced herself to keep a blank expression and not let Mrs. Goode see how badly her knees were knocking, or how tightly she had her fists closed.

  The woman gulped, obvious shock splayed across her face, and then she sighed. “As you wish, milady. But please don’t even think about going to the dailies or sell the castle. Our lot would be a poor one for sure, if you did. Lord Roland, bless his soul, took everything in stride, even the specter.”

  So there was something going on after all, Devin realized.

  “And…” she prompted, hating the façade she created just to get answers.

  “Well, when your cousin bought the castle and started to renovate, all sorts of odd happenings started occurring, almost every day. Before that, we only saw the Laird on occasion. There were noises to be heard, sounds from which we could never find a source. Lights would go on and off, the drapes would blow about madly in a closed-up room, and you could hear footsteps walking where there wasn’t a body to be found.”

  Kyle grinned, remembering the tricks he had pulled on poor Rollie in the beginning. Trying to get the American newcomer’s attention and prove he was here. Some of the same tricks he used on the household staff whenever they annoyed him. Harmless games, nothing malicious or violent.

  “So, yes, milady, the rumor of Laird MacLay is true. He does haunt the halls of the castle and he does play tricks on a body.”

  “And have you seen him yourself, Mrs. Goode?”

  “Aye, I have, Lady Noone. Quite a bit since Lord Rolland took over.”

  “And the music I heard. It was him?”

  “Again, yes, it was the Laird.”

  Devin asked the question she partially dreaded hearing an answer to. “And what is the story of the Laird? The whole story, Mrs. Goode.”

  The woman pressed her lips together in a tight line. “Are you sure I must?”

  “Yes, you must. It’s very important I know all the details if I am to reside here.”

  “All right. It is said back in the year of 1602 that Laird MacLay and Lady Elsbeth Morehead were to be married, here in the castle. The very eve before their wedding ceremony, Lady Elsbeth was taken from the castle, stolen from the Laird’s home by his worst enemy, Laird Duncan McPherson. Laird McPherson came in and spirited Elsbeth away right under Laird MacLay’s nose, right in the middle of the great celebration. It is said that Laird MacLay’s grief was so strong that he ran up to the tower and threw himself from the battlement, down the ancient stone staircase to Isle Lake. His broken and bruised body was found the following morning, when the guests gathered together for the wedding, but no bride or groom appeared. From that day on, the castle has been plagued by noises and strange happenings. Many of the previous owners couldn’t even spend a night here, they were in such fright over the occurrences, they left and the castle was sold time and again.”

  “So you’re telling me Laird MacLay committed suicide?” From what little contact Devin had had with the elusive Laird, it seemed highly unlikely that the man would have taken his own life. He seemed so strong, so virile, so…

  She focused her attention back to Mrs. Goode.

  “Yes, milady,” Mrs. Goode lowered her voice. “And Lady Elsbeth was never seen or heard from again. It is his grief that causes all the problems the castle has had. Though, when Lord Rolland took over, he and the Laird were able to come to some sort of understanding. A peace offering of sorts. The bad things stopped and the Laird could be seen walking through the halls, talking to Lord Rolland. They shared many stories together, and it was at that time that the Laird started appearing to the rest of the staff here. Even myself, the older woman whispered.”

  Mrs. Goode looked around the room, searching out each nook and cranny for the elusive Laird. Her features paled as though speaking the words aloud would incite the Laird’s wrath all over again.

  “And has the Laird ever hurt anyone or done anything destructive since my cousin moved in?”

  “Heavens no, milady. His Lordship isn’t violent, just depressed over the disappearance of his Ladyship and his own unfortunate demise.”

  “Then why is everyone so afraid of him and won’t talk about him? Only the cabby was willing to tell me bits and pieces of the late Laird. He told me the Laird even saved him and his brother from drowning, in a small cave off shore.”

  “Aye, that he did. Jamie and Ned were but wee bairns then,” Mrs. Goode acknowledged. “The Laird saved them both from a terrible fate.”

  “So, why do you think the Laird is making his presence known to me right now, then?” Devin questioned.

  “I’m not rightly sure, milady. I know he and Lord Rolland would stay up till the wee hours of the dawn talking. As though they were working on something. Planning something perhaps. But what, I don’t know for certain. I do know Lord Rolland seemed a bit upset the last time I saw him. Quite preoccupied, if you ask me. But,” she let out a sigh. “I never had the opportunity to ask why, and it wasn’t my place to question the Lord of the Manor.”

  Devin decided she had pressed Mrs. Goode for enough answers for now.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Goode. I appreciate your answering my questions. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, either.”

  “Your very welcome, milady. But please reconsider about going to the papers or selling. We love Castle Loch Haven and would hate to have it become a tourist trap. This has been a home to many of us since birth.” The woman picked up the serving tray and headed for the door. At the last second, she stopped and paused. “Lady Noone,” Mrs. Goode’s voice wavered.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you have come from America if you had known about the Laird?”

  Devin sighed. “I really don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I really don’t know.”

  With a quick nod of her head, the woman left the room. “Dinner will be served shortly, milady.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Goode.”

  Settling herself upon the window seat, Devin pulled her knees up to her chest, tugged the woolen throw around her body, and stared out at the sky. Thousands of stars filled the inky heavens, even though it was barely seven in the evening. Suddenly very weary, Devin closed her eyes and sat quietly in the silence.

  “That’s it, lass. I’m right here with you.” Kyle reached out to lightly caress her cheek.

  Devin jumped, her hand covering her cheek as she scanned the vacant room.

  “I know what I saw. You were there and you’re here right now, as well. I may not be able to see you, but I can feel you.” She whispered softly, and then dropped her head back down atop her knees.

  When had things become so complicated? Just last week she was plain old Devin Noone, a travel writer who came and went as she pleased in her little apartment on Maryland’s Eastern shore. Now, only seven days later, she was Lady Devin Noone, owner of Castle Loch Haven, Scotland. Everyone looked to her for guidance, guidance in matters she didn’t know a thing about and doubted she ever would.

  From his position under the mahogany end table, Algee crawled out and padded softly over to Devin. Resting his big furry head in her lap, he whined.

  “I know, Algee. I saw him, too.” She patted the dog and looked back out the window. “We’ll just have to manage. What else can we do?”

  The dog gave a loud groan as if acknowledging her words.

  Kyle fought the urge to reveal his presence to Devin, to tell her he was right here beside her. But she needed time; time to grieve for Rollie, and time to come to grips with what had occurred this very day. But he also needed to tell her his own version of that fateful night centuries ago. A night that had been recounted through history, each telling of the tale wilder than the one before. A tale in which, to this very day, the ending was misguided.

  “Till later, milady.”

  Chapter Four

  Devin woke bright and early the next morning, despite the fact she’d slept no more than four hours total, tossing and turning, trying to figure out what she could do to help Kyle.

>   This time, when she headed downstairs, Devin made careful note of the rooms she passed on the second floor. At the head of the staircase, she stopped and stared at the enormous stained glass panel framing the front hall entryway. From the outside of the castle, it was beautiful. But here, inside, with the morning sunlight streaming through the multicolored panels, it was magnificent—a sight to behold. The glass shimmered and shined in the morning light. It was Kyle at his finest. There was no doubt that he was a man very in command of himself. Dressed in silver chain mail and brandishing a broadsword, Devin could think of nothing more gorgeous than the man etched forever in glass above her.

  The designer hadn’t come close to doing Lord MacLay justice. Devin closed her eyes and let the previous day’s memories take over. He was so handsome. His body, though hundreds and hundreds of years old, retained a strength, a look of rock hard muscle with lean, trim thighs. His legs were powerful and strong. The way he had stood before her told Devin he was in total command. His stride never wavered or faltered when he had crossed the room toward her. But it was his eyes that most intrigued her. They were so very blue…blue as a clear azure sky and the deepest ocean. They were his finest feature, she thought. Funny, eyes were normally the last thing she noticed in a guy. Her first favorite feature was their butt. Okay, so call her a derriere devotee, she was hooked on a man’s backside more than anything else. Come to think of it, Kyle’s wasn’t too shabby either, she thought with a wry grin. Oh, good heavens, now she was fantasizing about a ghost’s butt. Could the day get any stranger?

  Argh. What was she thinking? It was time to focus and get with the program. Sizing up a man’s back end, regardless of who it belonged to, had no place in her plans for the day. Gathering her disjointed thoughts and wits about her, Devin started down the staircase, heading for the dining room, and a jolt of caffeine to jump start her day.

  “Good morning, Lady Noone. I trust you slept well.”

  Devin let out a gasp of surprise and whirled around to find Lord MacLay lounging comfortably against the wall by the sideboard. His nonchalant attitude tugged at her, making her insides quiver in a way she had never felt before.

  “I suppose it would be too much to ask if you could possibly warn me somehow that you are about to pop in and out of a room?” She casually stepped around him, posing the comment in passing, as she glanced at the bountiful breakfast buffet spread across the table. Her heart still raced from his surprise welcome.

  “What, and take away the little fun I do get to have?” He grinned.

  Oh boy, that grin…she’d forgotten how devastatingly handsome he was when he smiled. This was going to be harder than she thought if all she did was spend her time ogling a specter. It could make for a really long day.

  Forcing herself to concentrate on the food spread magnificently before her, Devin poured a glass of orange juice and took a blueberry muffin from the basket.

  “Lord MacLay,” she began.

  “Please call me Kyle, your Ladyship. After all, the castle is rightfully yours now. I…” he sighed dramatically, pressing his hand to his heart as though in mortal anguish. “I am but an unwanted visitor in my own humble abode.” He gestured to the grand surroundings, tried to look sorrowful, and failed miserably.

  “Oh, for heavens sake. Humility doesn’t become you.” Devin dropped the knife on her plate and rolled her eyes. She fought the smile that threatened to break through.

  He smiled at her again, and this time his gaze lingered, slowly looking her up and down in a very thorough once-over. Devin felt her cheeks flush with his intimate perusal and dropped her own gaze back to her plate. This would never do. She needed to get control of things now, right from the start, before it got any worse.

  “Fine, Kyle. I have been giving the matter quite a bit of thought and I believe that the best course of action is to start my search inside the castle. Possibly in the solar or maybe even the library. There must be some clue somewhere as to what my cousin had learned.”

  “And how may I be of assistance to you, milady?” Kyle pushed off the sideboard and moved closer, settling his hip on the edge of the table, less than a foot away from her.

  “Um, I don’t know yet. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” His close proximity was doing strange things to her insides. The nearness of his body set off warning bells within her skull. Her skin felt warm, as though she were running a fever from the inside out. The blueberry muffin that looked so appetizing only moments before now lay untouched on her plate.

  Pushing back her chair, Devin stood, leaving the uneaten remains of her breakfast, and moved a safe distance away from his enigmatic presence.

  “I’m going to take a walk outside for awhile. Check things out, you know, look at the outside of the castle and get a handle on stuff. Why don’t we talk later?” She was nervous, and when she got nervous, she babbled. This very moment she was babbling with the best of them.

  Kyle stared at her intently for a moment. “As you wish, Lady Noone. I will meet you later in the solar, then.” With a quick bow, he vanished before her eyes.

  Dropping heavily back into the seat she had seconds before vacated, Devin let out a slow, unsteady breath. “Okay, so much for a warning,” she muttered to no one in particular.

  After slipping on her wool coat and hiking boots, Devin opened the front door and stepped out into the courtyard. Staring around her, it was hard to believe this was now her new home. Borders of rhododendrons and tulips lined the edges of the drive, bursts of red and yellow a vibrant contrast to the soft hues of the castle walls. Miles and miles of green grass stretched before her on one side, on the other, waves crashed against the craggy shoreline. It was near here the Loch Ness Monster had been made popular through witness accounts of a creature swimming across the icy cold Loch, its giant body undulating in and out of the water, its scaly body breaking the surface time and again. What could be more bizarre?

  Better yet, a giant mutant trout undulating through the clear waters of the trout stream that ran across the side lawn.

  With a giggle, she realized the answer to her own question. How about a ghost who inhabited Castle Loch Haven?

  Would people flock to Loch Haven for a glimpse of the elusive Laird MacLay, or would they debunk her sightings as far-fetched fiction? Probably the latter, she thought. She thought about the laptop packed away in its case upstairs in her suite. What a great tale she could tell. But she had given Kyle her word, and she would help him find a way out of this life, to pass on to the other side.

  She inhaled the scent of peat and heather, mixed with the cold spring air; a heady combination of land and sea.

  Looking up, Devin gazed over the enormous exterior of the castle. The turrets and towers, climbing high into the sky filled her line of vision. The outline of the ancient drawbridge pulled her attention down to the enormous entrance to the castle itself. It was here hundreds of years ago, that Lord MacLay would have defended his home, using weapons that today would be sorely lacking. But back then it sufficed. At the base of the castle, the landscaping was perfect. The box hedges were trimmed to a neat and tidy height, no branch out of order anywhere. The lush green lawn was perfectly manicured, as though shorn with nail scissors in order to keep each blade of grass in exact length with the one on either side of it. The interior gardens were clean and free from debris, their rows mulched for the oncoming summer season. As for the walls of the castle, they were an entirely different matter. Old mixed with new. The massive walls of stone, in spots broken and scarred, but not displeasing to the eye.

  Devin knew she was looking at things with her writer’s eye, as though she were sizing up her next article. In fact, she mused, maybe the castle would make a good piece to write about. Once she knew more about it.

  High above her loomed the archer’s windows. Small slits cut into the stone walls that allowed the archers to view the approaching marauders and launch their own counterattack by sliding their bow and arrows through the slits for aim. Or worse
yet, pour boiling water down on the intruder’s heads, scalding them in an instant. It was an unsettled place, where war threatened the inhabitants time and again; where one was never truly safe from attack. What little she did know of castle life, she had gleaned from the travel books at the library in Queenstown, Maryland.

  Devin shivered and buried her face deeper into her coat, pulling the collar tighter about her neck. The cold spring weather crept through her, chilling her to the bone. She moved forward, around the side of the castle to the staircase leading to the lake.

  Picking her way gingerly down the uneven countryside, amid the rocks and boulders that formed the ancient stone staircase, Devin soon found herself at the base of the castle. The beauty beckoned her closer to the water’s edge, teasing her with tiny waves that darted across the craggy shoreline, and then retreated out beyond the safety of the shallows. Slowly, she scanned the shoreline, for something, anything to give her a starting point with which to work from. If only she had a clue, something to go on. Then again, if she had all the clues she needed, this wouldn’t be much of a mystery, would it?

  She rounded a corner and saw the dark outline of a cave looming ahead of her. Picking her way carefully across the shore, she headed for the entrance. Could this have anything to do with Kyle’s tie to the present, she wondered?

  The outside walls of the cave were moss covered, bits of peat bog clung to the rocks and broken sea shells littered the entry way. Devin paused. Should she go in? No telling what might be residing there, waiting for some hapless victim to stumble in, and be its next meal.

  “Great, now I sound like one of my own articles. Woman enters cave, only to be eaten by sea monster. Stay tuned, story at eleven.” Embarrassed by her own cowardice, she moved forward.