“Ye’re here! Ye’re here! I was about to send out a search team.”
Maddie returned the embrace with a laugh. “The road has gotten smaller. And I’m driving on the wrong side of the road.”
“Well, there’s that,” Sara said with a grin, grabbing a suitcase and leading the way to Maddie’s room in the family wing.
Maddie couldn’t help smiling as they climbed the carved staircase that swept up from the main foyer to the landing that separated the guest wing from the family wing. It felt so good to be back. Sara had redecorated the interior, preserving the comfortable elegance that was a Trotternish hallmark. The wings were named after their views—Garden, Mountain, or Ocean, symbols of each woven into the carpets and the upholstery in that wing. Maddie sighed with pleasure as she followed Sara down the long corridor of the Ocean Wing, with its blue-and-white color scheme. She remembered this so well, the walnut paneling waist high, topped by brilliant white plaster that showcased the hundreds of Scottish watercolors that Magnus and Anne had collected over the decades, seascapes in this wing. The windows were opened wide, and the sound of the sea rose above the conversation and laughter from the terrace below, where afternoon tea was being served. Sara opened the door to the room Maddie had had fifteen years ago, stepping back to let her enter first. The wallpaper and the bedding had been changed, but not the fine mahogany furniture. The room smelled, as it always had, like lilacs and lemon polish, and Maddie took a deep breath.
“I gave ye yer old room. Hope ye don’t mind.”
Maddie smiled. “I love this room, Thank you for remembering.”
“Of course I remembered!” Sara went to the window and pushed the blue-and-white chintz curtains back. “But I warn ye, ye’ll only be here long enough to throw yer exhausted self into bed. We’ll have total chaos until the big day. My grandparents will see ye at dinner. They went to visit my great-aunt Eloise, the one who drives my grandfather mad. Hard to believe they’re siblings.” She plumped a pillow. “And speaking of siblings, Derek is in the kitchen trying to get something besides meat and fish and potatoes on the menu, and no doubt thoroughly upsetting my head chef. Can ye imagine the Trotternish changing its menu just because we’re in a new century? Keith is down in Portree with a dead car. And my parents will be here next week, but enough about the MacDonalds. How are ye, Maddie?”
“Jet-lagged and grimy and tired—I had to work all night—but wonderful. It’s so good to see you again.” She gave her old friend another hug.
“And ye as well. Ye look splendid, not grimy at all, but very fit. Ye look exactly the same as the last time I saw ye.”
“It’s been five years.”
“Is that possible?” Sara sighed. “Hard to believe. I suspect that means I’m five years older. Remember how we pretended to be in our twenties?”
“We were teenagers. We thought getting older was cool.”
“We were idiots.”
Maddie grinned. “We were, weren’t we? But it was a wonderful summer.”
“That it was. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed one more. Well, now ye’ll have another Scottish summer. Well, fortnight of a Scottish summer.”
Maddie began to answer, but was interrupted by the ring of her cell phone. “Sorry, I have to get it.”
“It’ll be Larry Someone. Is that yer boss?”
“How did you know?” Maddie nodded and answered the phone, but the connection was gone.
“He called downstairs twice already. Maddie, really! Ye’re on holiday. Can it not wait?”
Maddie shook her head. “You don’t understand. I promised to be available.”
“That’s not much of a break.”
“I shouldn’t have left at all. It’s terrible timing.”
Sara put her hands on her hips. “When’s the last time ye had a holiday?”
“I just need to get past the Super Bowl.”
“But that’s not until January! And then it’ll be the next project. Ye’ve turned into a workaholic.”
Maddie shook her head. “No, just someone with a very demanding job.”
“Ye need a long, silly holiday, and that’s just what ye’ll get here.” Sara gave Maddie a quick hug. “Have a nap and a shower and come down whenever ye wish. I’m off to get Keith, but I’ll be back before too long. Help yerself to whatever ye need.” She crossed the room and turned at the door. “Bless ye for coming, Maddie. It means the world to Granddad, and to me.”
“And to me,” Maddie said.
“Turn that damn phone off and rest! I’ll see ye after a bit.”
The shower felt good, and Maddie slept for an hour. It was late afternoon when she woke, or at least she thought so. Days were longer here, and Scottish summer nights very short; the gloaming lasted hours before the darkness came, and even then the night wasn’t black, but rather a deep blue. At the longest the darkness lasted only a few hours, and then the sun rose again. Larry had left five messages on her cell phone, and Maddie called him at home, shaking her head as she hung up twenty minutes later. As usual, it all could have waited. The man was a walking cliché, poster boy for cardiac surgeon full employment.
Sara wasn’t back when Maddie went downstairs, and after chatting with a few of the staff, she grabbed a wind-breaker and set off. This was the perfect time to get started on her gift for Magnus. Even if she’d not needed to go there, she couldn’t stay away. It had been her favorite place on the island and one of the scenes she’d not been able to erase from her mind. Duntober Castle.
2
Iain MacDonald looked at himself in the mirror and grinned. No wonder the American girl had been terrified when they’d appeared. The chestnut was eighteen hands, a huge brute who loved to run full bore. And he himself looked like a madman, hair too long and wild from the wind, shirt rumpled from leaning over Blaven’s neck, legs muddy from crashing through the puddles on the old road. No wonder she’d been frightened; he’d had a hell of a scare himself when he’d looked up from coming around the bend and seen her in front of them. He turned from his reflection to pull his shirt over his head and toss it on the chest, where it was soon followed by the kilt. Thank God Blaven was as intelligent as he was swift; otherwise they would have run her over. And that, Iain thought, climbing into the shower, would have been a hell of a shame. She was damned beautiful; shaken, but definitely beautiful, tall, slender but curvy, just the way he thought a woman should look. Her brown hair had been tousled, giving her a look of abandon, and her eyes, fringed with long lashes, were splendid. Lovely eyes, he thought. Straight nose, delicate jawline that tapered behind her wavy hair, a definite beauty. Before she’d spoken he’d guessed she was an American; New York or L.A. where everyone seemed to wear black clothes every day of the year.
He’d have to apologize. And soon. Who knew how long she’d be staying at the hotel? It wouldn’t be difficult to see her again. And if she was still angry, he could watch as her eyes flashed at him and her chest heaved. Iain grinned to himself. There was nowhere to go at the Trotternish but the pub or the lounge after dinner. He’d find her tonight, buy her a drink, and see just what color those eyes were.
This view is beyond beautiful, Maddie thought, pausing at the pile of stones that had once been a gatehouse. Below her Duntober Bay melded into open sea and flowed in shades of silver and blue to the mainland. The island of Rona was indigo in the channel, and the mainland mountains cobalt on the horizon. Whoever chose this site had chosen well. The castle was protected by the cliff that separated it from the water and by the Quiraing behind it. Duntober had passed into MacDonald hands in the early sixteenth century, and they had retained it ever since. It had been deserted in the eighteenth century, sometime after the Jacobite rising of 1715. There were several different stories for why the MacDonalds had left the castle, from a baby being dropped from a window to the ghostly visits of former owner Donald Gorm MacDonald. Maddie preferred the ghost story herself; it was easy to believe spirits roamed the ruins of Duntober.
Much of
the castle was intact, although its walls were crumbling and many of the stones that had once formed the walls had been quarried for local houses. Magnus had told her that some of the stones used to build the Trotternish had been brought down from here. What was left was stark and lonely, but the ruin hinted at its former splendor and comfort. The wind freshened, and she turned to climb the short hill to the castle. The outer walls had once stretched from the gatehouse to enclose a courtyard and the castle itself, but there were gaps in it now. Stones were strewn along the pathway that had been clear on her last visit, and Maddie looked up at a sound from within the castle, half expecting to see rocks falling toward her. There was nothing to see, and she pulled her jacket tighter and told herself not to be so silly. No ghosts would disturb her visit.
As if to mock her last thought, the bushes and trees to her left rustled, the thick foliage blocking her view of whatever it was that shook the branches. She froze, feeling the hair on her neck rise. She took a step, then a second, off the path, pushing branches slowly out of her way and peering through the leaves. There was a movement; then the branch swayed again in the breeze, and she took a deep breath. Another sound, farther up the hill this time, assured her that whatever—or whomever—it was had moved away from her. Not enough sleep and too many ghost stories, she told herself. But something had been there.
At the top of the hill, the castle looked just as she had remembered it, the gray stone walls towering into the clouds. This graceful shell had once been a home, a refuge from the world, she thought as she moved to the center of the Great Hall. It would not be a shell for much longer. Magnus was going to restore Duntober, and Mad-die was delighted. She and Sara had dreamed of doing just that and living here in luxury. They had spent hours here that summer fifteen years ago, planning their future together. Nothing of their dreams had come true except their continued friendship, although Sara’s life was closer to their plan. She lived here now, having returned from London seven years ago and soon after married a Skye man. She and Keith had gradually taken over more of the responsibilities of the Trotternish and seemed content to stay right here.
Maddie, on the other hand, had had a disastrous marriage right out of college and a career that continued to consume her. Sure, it was exhausting, but the rewards were great. She made good money, and in another few years she’d really break through—if she could stand it. What had begun as an adventure had become tedious. She wasn’t sure she had what it took to get to the next level, wasn’t sure she wanted to try. You’re just tired, she told herself, putting the office out of her mind.
There was obvious construction outside the castle, but inside the walls the restoration work must be in its very early stages. There was little change, although wheelbarrows lined the sides of the space, and piles of sand and bags of cement were stacked up next to them. The spiral staircase was dark, lit only by the arrow slits in its eastern side, but she remembered the way and climbed past the first and second floors, then stopped at the third level to stand in the doorway. She’d found what she’d wanted, the rooms that Sara and she had assigned to themselves. The one with the southernmost view would have been hers, the one next to it, facing the mainland, Sara’s. She crossed the room to look out the window, stopping when she realized that the wooden floor was spongy under her feet, and turning back to the stone staircase with a sense of relief. Above her the stairs continued to the parapet, but they’d been wobbly fifteen years ago; she wouldn’t risk it now. It was time to get to work anyway. Her gift to Magnus was to be two drawings of Duntober—what it looked like now, and what it would look like when restored—and she needed to begin her preliminary sketches if the drawings were to be ready in time. The ancient gazetteer she’d bought on the Internet had helped her to figure out perspectives and given some dimensions, but she wanted her gift to be more than a realistic rendering. She wanted it to show Magnus’s pride and joy in his heritage, qualities he rarely spoke of but which were an integral part of his character. She found a spot to sit on the terrace, pulled her sketchpad out, and began to work.
An hour later Maddie leaned back, pleased with her work as she held the sketches up to the original and compared the two. Not bad, she thought as she put her things away. Maybe the old spark wasn’t gone after all. It had been ages since she’d drawn for pleasure, since she’d done anything even remotely creative, and part of her had wondered if she still had it in her. She’d been naive when she first started working in advertising, thinking that she’d have a chance to create and still work in the real world. Instead, she’d found that since she was good at administering projects, that was what she did with most of her time. It meant she’d been promoted quickly, but she missed the thrill of picking up a pencil or paintbrush.
Maybe she’d do a whole series of Duntober drawings. She held her hand up against the glare and pictured tall ships in the harbor below. Duntober Bay had once been full of sailing ships that had traveled the world; what a sight they must have been, their sails sharply white against the water, tall blond men standing on the decks. Whoa, she thought, laughing at herself. Where did that come from? But she knew; she’d tried to erase the images from this afternoon’s encounter, but they were too keenly etched in her memory. Gorgeous man. He’d looked so… male. She pulled the sketchpad out of her bag again. Could she capture him on paper? Almost, she decided after a few tries. She was sure she had the angle of his chin right, but those cheekbones couldn’t really be that sharp. She needed to see him again. She’d have to ask Sara. Maddie smiled again and stretched. Maybe there was life outside New York after all. She’d heard rumors…
When Maddie got back to the hotel, Sara was on the side porch, talking with a man with brown hair and even features. Keith, she thought, recognizing him from the pictures Sara sent. He was even better looking in person. They made a striking couple.
“Here’s Maddie,” Sara said, and the man turned to greet her with a wide smile.
“Keith MacIver,” he said, extending a hand to her.
“My husband,” Sara said with a proud smile.
Maddie took his hand with a smile of her own. “Maddie Breen. I’m so pleased to meet you at last. I feel as though I’ve known you for years.”
“And I ye. We’re all pleased that ye’ve come, Sara most of all.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”
Sara led the way inside, and Maddie followed. “Did ye sleep?”
“For a while. Then I showered and went to Duntober.”
“I should have known ye’d do that straight away. Did ye find our rooms?”
Maddie nodded. “But of course. They look the same. The floor is squishy, though.”
“Oh, grand. I’ll tell Granddad tonight. Stupid place is falling down about our ears. The restoration is not a moment too soon.”
Maddie laughed. “It lasted seven or eight hundred years. I’d say that’s fairly good construction.”
“Oh, well, there is that. Did ye see anyone up there? But no, it’s Sunday, no one will be working. I sometimes forget I’m not in London. Hungry? I’m off to the kitchen to see how they’re doing. Do ye want to come?”
“I can wait until dinner, but tea would be great.”
“Come on, we’ll get ye some at once.”
Sara was as good as her word. Maddie met the kitchen staff and drank tea while Sara listened to the head chef’s latest suggestions for the party menu, consoled him for Derek’s intrusion into his kingdom, discussed last-minute details on tonight’s dinner, and handled a minor dispute between two waiters. The Trotternish currently had fifty guests to feed and care for in addition to the staff and family now here, and more were arriving every day. Maddie quickly discovered that Sara’s style and breezy cheerfulness disguised a deft managerial touch that made her a favorite with the staff. Before long Maddie was following Sara back to the family lounge for a drink with Keith. A tall man sat with Keith before the picture window, and Maddie recognized Sara’s brother Derek at once. He hadn’t changed much in t
he fifteen years except to fill out a bit. He gave Maddie a wide smile as he and Keith rose to greet them.
“Here’s Maddie,” Sara said. “Be charming to her while I check the dining room, lads.”
“Welcome back to the Trotternish,” Derek said, smiling again.
Maddie smiled in return. “It’s lovely to be back. I had a wonderful time here.”
“Ye won a lot of hearts in short order,” Derek told her. “My grandparents adore ye, ye know. They often mention the marvelous Maddie.”
“It’s quite mutual. I’ve bored my friends for years with my Skye stories.”
“Well, ye’ll have more now. We’ve quite the party planned. Sara’s outdone herself, and that’s no mean feat. And then there’ll be the Games and the big race.”
“Ah,” said Maddie. “That explains the man who was racing along the old road on my way in. I was nearly flattened.”
Keith laughed. “Ye’ll have to be careful, Maddie. Magnus has put a prize of five hundred pounds out, and half the island is mad for it. The kitchen lads were racing in the parking lot yesterday. Mad, the lot of them.”
“Are you racing?” Maddie asked.
Derek shook his head. “We’re not eligible. Granddad said no family; he’s sure we’d win. Keith and I have our doubts, but this way we’re not put to the test.”
They all laughed, then turned to welcome Sara back. She smiled happily.
“All’s well. No need for yer help tonight, Derek.” She turned to Maddie. “My brother lives for the times we have him help in the pub.”
“I’m considering leaving law to do it full-time,” Derek said.
“As if ye would slow that career of yers,” Sara said. “Ye’re as bad as Maddie. Workaholics the two of ye.”
“At least I take holidays,” Derek said, grinning. “Maddie hasn’t for years.”
My Scottish Summer Page 28