The Laird's Lady

by Patti Schenberger

  Holding on to the slick walls of the cave as best she could, Devin took a step forward. A dim light filtered into the entrance of the cave, enough though that she could see bits and pieces of the interior.

  The cave smelled musty, water logged and something else Devin couldn’t readily identify. The walls were covered with a brackish film, which she supposed was seaweed.

  Not watching her step, Devin tripped and fell to her knees. The cold water instantly enveloped her lower legs, as the rocks bit at her knees and hands.

  “Great,” Devin mumbled, stumbling for balance as she rose clumsily to her feet. “Hey, what the—” Devin stared down at her feet, or at least where her feet were a moment ago. Water now covered her up to her ankles, and more filled the cave at a quick pace. She turned back toward the entrance as another swell of icy water pushed in, this one bigger than the one before. The way she had entered was now flooded. No sign of the shoreline remained. Just water as far as the eye could see. And unfortunately, that was everywhere she looked.

  Scrambling forward, Devin waded through the water toward the back of the cave, away from the impending onslaught. The light was dimmer back here, harder to see, but Devin continued on. She faltered at the base of what seemed to be a staircase. Should she go up? Who knew what was at the top of it, even if there was a top or possibly a dead end. Turning around, she watched the water ebbing and flowing, quickly filling the interior of the cave.

  She knew better than to venture into areas she knew nothing about. Devin thought about an article she had written, describing what not to do if you were in almost the same situation as this one. The first thing was not to panic; the second was to find higher ground, away from the rising waters of the Loch. Right now, climbing seemed to be her best bet.

  Up the staircase she went, higher and higher, until she reached what seemed to be the top. Slowly, she sat down on the top step, and surveyed her surroundings. Here too, the smell was undistinguishable, a rank, odd odor that set her senses to reeling.

  Off to the side of the so called landing was a stack of something she couldn’t quite make out.

  “Please don’t let there be anything dead up here,” she prayed quietly.

  Thanks to several small holes in the ceiling of the cave, muted shafts of light permeated the darkness, thought not enough to really make a difference. Taking a look around, Devin noted that the landing seemed to be about four feet wide in all directions. Not huge, but comfortable enough until she figured out what to do.

  Leaning back, she took stock of the wall behind her. It seemed to bear the outline of a door. In the dim light, Devin couldn’t be sure. She stood and ran her hands around the edges. It was a door. She continued to scan the surface with her fingertips, feeling the remnants of a door latch, now broken and rough to the touch from time and the air. An entryway to somewhere, but where? She mentally tried to focus on the rooms of the castle she did know. Where would this lead to? Where would it come out? The Great Hall? No, she was too far below. The kitchen? Possibly. But wherever it led to in the past, was now sealed over with stone or concrete. Devin wasn’t sure what the material was, but it effectively plugged all the gaps between the door and what was on the other side.

  Turning back, Devin squinted again at the stack. Cautiously she reached out her index finger and poked the top of the pile. It squished beneath her touch and Devin felt her stomach lurch.

  “Not dead, just gross.”

  Suddenly, the realization hit her. Peat. It was peat squares. This was where they stored the peat for fuel when brought in from the Loch. She recalled Mrs. Goode saying that before the castle had electric heat, they had used peat for fuel. Cut into squares and dried, it was stored directly below the kitchens for easy access. Though the smell was atrocious, it was a cheap and effective source of fuel, burning for hours at a time. This was a storeroom…an old one that hadn’t been used in a very long time. From the looks of the rapidly rising water, she could see why. Before long the room would be completely submerged…with her in it!

  “Okay, I’ve got to get out of here before the water reaches the top step.” Devin searched her brain for help. What was she going to do? Whatever it was, it needed to be fast.

  Fear bit at her. She shivered, her teeth chattering. The chilly air swirled around her, working its way into her bones. Her wet clothes were no match for the cold waters of the Loch. Panic clawed at her insides as she struggled for answers. Anything that would help her get out of this cave and back into the warmth of the castle.

  “Help, can anybody hear me?” Devin pounded on the door behind her, calling out for aid. Her voice echoed off the stone walls of the cave, the words sounding distorted, muted by the crashing waves outside the cave entrance.

  “Please, somebody, anybody, help me! I’m trapped in the cave.” Again, she pounded on the door, her fists beating at the wood, her teeth chattering as she called out time and again for assistance.

  Nothing. Not a sound from the other side of the door could be heard. Nothing but the sound of her own hysteria as she realized the futility of her plight.

  No one answered her plea for help. Devin felt the cold air brush against her face. She coughed; each gasp of frigid breath burned in her chest and tore at her throat. She yelled and hollered, over and over, till her throat was raw. Barely a whisper, she cried out again, then fell back weakly against the stone door.

  The water was at the third step from the top. Devin backed away from the steps, away from the rising murky water and pressed back against the peat squares. Searching for a foothold among the peat, she pushed herself higher, atop the pile of fuel.

  She would probably die here, Devin thought, with a touch of melodrama, her imagination once again getting the better of her. Alone in this stupid room, all because of her own ignorance. Alone beneath the castle, trying to find answers to the questions Kyle had posed. Alone in the musty, gross cave with the stinky smell of peat forever etched in her mind.

  “Help me, please. Somebody, please.” Devin cried out. Desperation filled her mind as she shivered in the icy air. She huddled deeper into her coat, seeking whatever warmth she could. But the fleece provided little protection against the frigid cold that bit at her.

  She struggled again for a handhold, anything to keep the water at bay, but the sides of the walls were too smooth and moss covered from time. There was no way, without assistance, she was going to make it out of here or escape the rising, icy cold water.

  Then she noticed a blurry blob come into view. Algee. His pitiful cries from the front of the cave at seeing her echoed her own.

  “Algee, good boy. Go get help. Get Mrs. Goode, get Kyle. Hurry boy, go to the kitchen.”

  The dog plopped down at the edge of the rocks and stared at her.

  “Algee, please. Go get help.” Devin realized she was putting all her faith in a dog who was scared of his own shadow, but it didn’t matter. She croaked out the words as sternly as she could

  A good fifty feet and some seriously rising water separated Algee and Devin from her perch atop the peat-filled landing. Algee whined and stood, then turned back. He took a few tentative steps, barked once, and then trotted off out of sight, the sound of his whines growing faintly with each step.

  Thunder rumbled off in the distance. The smell of rain filled the air, as the wind rose, blowing great gusts through the entrance of the cave.

  Devin prayed the dog would get someone in time. Someone who could help her escape.

  If the thunder continued, there would be no way anyone would hear her cries for help, everything depended on Algee.

  She had no one to blame but herself for this predicament. Biting back a curse a truck driver would envy, she shoved her hands between the piles of peat squares, trying to secure a better handhold. Then she thought of it. Throwing the peat squares off the pile, Devin tried in vain to create a sort of sand bag wall against the water. One by one, she added to the growing pile of squares at the top of the landing. Anything to stop the water,
to slow down the onslaught that she knew was inevitable.

  “What the—”

  Devin fumbled around in the near darkness, trying to catch hold of whatever she had just touched. Searching between the bales, she pulled out a square, material wrapped package.

  “What in the world is this?”

  The waters rose higher still, the tide pushed the incoming swell further into the cave. Devin yelped as the water reached her ankles. At this point, even thinking about escaping seemed futile. Time had run out. Tucking the packet in the inside pocket of her coat, she grabbed more squares and prayed for the best.

  Kyle paced in front of the large picture window, his long, lean body tense from worry. He stared out at the Loch, watching the incoming tide creep higher and higher upon the shoreline. The chilly waters crashed at the craggy rock base. Gulls dipped and climbed, searching for juicy morsels of fish among the shallow pools formed by the rush of water.

  “Where is that blasted woman? She should have been back hours ago. What could be taking her so long? Unless…” He dragged a hand through his hair, and then glanced at the mantel clock. The hour was growing late and still there was no sign of her.

  He paused. Unless she had found something to aid in their search. Looking about the great room, Kyle wondered if it might be truly possible. Could Devin have found the key to end his time on Earth? Something that Rollie overlooked, or maybe even had uncovered at the very end?

  Rollie.

  Poor Rollie. The memory of his dear trusted American brought a lump to Kyle’s throat. Lord Roland, friend to everyone, and most of all, ally to Kyle when times were hard and no one chose to assist him.

  Instead, they had chosen to ignore his presence, despite Kyle’s calculated, though most assuredly unwelcome and unorthodox disturbances.

  Kyle wandered toward the front hall table and picked up the stack of letters. He looked through them, absently noting the Australia postmark, and then walked back toward the fire. Where was she? He paced back and forth staring out at the Loch, the letters still clutched within his grasp.

  A commotion in the foyer drew Kyle’s attention from the view of the Loch and back inside the castle.

  Algee skidded to a stop in the great hall, his oversized body slipping and sliding on the stone floor.

  His incessant barking tore Kyle from his musings, yanking him from his thoughts.

  “Quiet, you mangy beast before I make a throw rug out of you,” Kyle bellowed at the dog.

  The barking continued, with Algee prancing about the room, alternating between howls and whines, until Kyle could stand no more.

  “What is wrong with you, you overgrown mongrel?”

  Wasn’t it enough that the creature burst into raucous cries of woe every time Kyle came near him, now must he also incessantly bay, like some love-struck lone-wolf howling at the moon?

  Algee barked again, this time directly in front of Kyle.

  “Go away, you miserable excuse for a coward. Leave me at once,” Kyle ordered.

  Algee stood his ground, refusing to back down. Moving closer, the dog leaned on him, pushing at his leg with his muzzle. Algee tugged at Kyle’s sleeve, trying to urge him forward, closer to the door.

  Kyle eyed the dog suspiciously. What was wrong with the beast this time? The creature had touched him repeatedly. He had never done that before, he always ran in fear, instead. It was as though it was trying to get his attention. To tell him it needed assistance. To…

  Dear Heavens above, had the lass been injured?

  Kyle whirled back to the window, scanning the land. Nothing seemed amiss, no one to be seen. But then again…

  Devin.

  Kyle expelled a deep, ragged breath.

  “Lady Devin, where is she?” Kyle bellowed in the general direction of the dog, his gaze locked on the craggy shoreline of the Loch. His thoughts were in disarray as he forced himself calm.

  The big dog ran to the doorway, then back to Kyle and barked once more.

  “Mrs. Goode, where are you? I need your assistance, madam. Lady Devin is in trouble.” Kyle called out to the housekeeper as he raced from the great room, throwing the letters on the table, not noticing that half fell into the fireplace and were immediately consumed by the roaring blaze that burned of his own making.

  Worry clouded his mind as he followed the dog through the foyer and out the front door of the Castle. Please don’t let anything happen to Devin, he prayed inwardly. Not now, not after Rollie’s untimely demise. He knew his prayers were more than likely in vain. What had he ever done to deserve attention from the Heavens? Nothing that he could recollect in the past century or so. But at this point, a little Heavenly intervention couldn’t hurt, now could it?

  ****

  “Hold tight, you’re safe now, Devin.” He murmured softly beside her.

  “Kyle, help me.” She whispered his name, too tired to even try and open her eyes to see him.

  “It’s all right, milady, you’re safe now. Safe and sound back at the castle and in your own bed. Everything will be all right now.”

  His words were spoken softly, yet Devin could feel his presence in the room.

  She shivered, unable to stop the violent shudders that racked her body.

  “Kyle, it’s so cold. I can’t get warm.” she murmured, her numb fingers plucked at the blanket’s edge.

  “Get another warm blanket on her, that’s the ticket.” Mrs. Goode bustled about the bedroom, poking at the fire until it became a raging inferno in the room.

  “Sip this, Lady Noone. Nice warm broth to help chase the chills away. That’s it, lass. A little more if you would please, milady.” The older woman’s voice was gentle, yet insistent.

  Doing as she was bid, she raised her head from the pillow and slowly drank the broth, letting the warm liquid ease her throat.

  Lying back, she burrowed deeper into the cocoon of blankets, buried her face against the soft wool, and sighed.

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me die, Kyle. I knew Algee would find you and get help,” she mumbled softly, as her words trailed off and sleep took over.

  “Sleep milady, it will do you good. Everything will be better upon the morrow.” Kyle hoped his words were not said in vain.

  Mrs. Goode turned; arms folded across her ample chest and stared at him, her gaze quite resolute. “’Tis a curse, Lord MacLay, brought on by your infernal quest to pass on. The lass almost died out there because of you and your blasted interference. Your presence in the castle cost us Lord Rolland and today we almost lost her Ladyship. What are you trying to do, take everyone with you as well? I hope you’re satisfied.”

  With that said the older woman sat down in the chair by the fireside, her arms still tightly folded and posture rigid as she glared at the man who stood by the bedside. It was clear to see she intended to stay with her Ladyship until all was right again.

  Kyle stood quietly by the bedside, his fists clenched in frustration. The few times Mrs. Goode actually deigned to speak to him and acknowledge his presence were also unfortunately the times when something had gone wrong within the castle walls.

  She was right; he had been in the castle at the time of Rollie’s demise and now Devin’s mishap, too.

  Was Mrs. Goode right? Was his presence wreaking havoc with the lives of the people he interacted with? He had nothing to do with Lord Roland’s death. That fact was made certain by the physician who had come to tend to Rollie in the aftermath. But, was it because of him Devin had nearly drowned in the cave?

  He fervently hoped not. Fading from sight, he left to ponder the answers to his own puzzling questions.

  Chapter Five

  Devin was cold, colder than she had ever felt before. Her teeth chattered. Pulling the covers tighter about her, she sighed.

  She opened her eyes and stared at the blazing fireplace. The fire burned steadily, the flame high and bright in her room. How long had she been asleep? Devin remembered hearing voices, Mrs. Goode’s, Kyle’s, and Cook’s reassuring t
ones that enveloped her, letting her know she was safe and back inside the security of the castle. They smoothed her hair, tucked the woolen blankets about her, and made sure she was warm and dry.

  Maryland was never this cold, not even in the worst possible weather. But here in Scotland, spring brought new meaning to the word frigid.

  Glancing toward the window, she noted it was dark outside, whether late night or early day, Devin wasn’t sure. A peek at the clock on the bedside table read eleven-thirty, confirming it was indeed evening.

  Stretching, she felt the stinging sensation of a thousand tiny needles jabbing at her skin. Her legs ached in spots she hadn’t known existed, her muscles sore from her extended time in the cold wet cave.

  Tears of foolishness welled up in Devin’s eyes as she realized the folly of her ways. How easily it would have been to have died in that storeroom, alone and quite possibly never found until her body washed up on shore at some later date. The waters had climbed higher and higher, till they all but encompassed her. Time was a blur as she thought back to how she had been rescued. All she knew for sure was that she had heard and then seen Algee, peering around the entrance of the cave, whining and barking at her. Then, nothing. Everything from that point was fuzzy, until she woke in her own bed. Yet something nagged at her. Something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  Reaching for a tissue from the nightstand, Devin swiped at her eyes and loudly blew her nose.

  She mentally retraced what she could of the event. She remembered taking the peat squares and trying to create a breakfront of sorts, a sandbag effect to slow down the water. She had pulled the squares from the pile, and put them in a messy row, atop one another. Then…she remembered the package.

  The parcel she had encountered nestled securely between the squares of peat. But what had she done with it? A quick glance around the room showed nothing amiss.

  Devin closed her eyes and thought back. Where had she put it?

  At once her eyes opened and her gaze flew to the coat rack beside the bedroom door. She had tucked it in her coat pocket. Would it still be there, or had it somehow been misplaced during her rescue?