Scent of Scotland Page 6

  "He means well," she insisted.

  I dearly wanted to ask her about this strange charade, but we reached the interior of the entrance hall and no amount of whispering could conceal our conversation. The luggage followed behind us, and soon we four stood in the center of the hall. A servant removed Lady Stewart's coat and she shook the snow out of her hair.

  "Oh, how wonderful your home is! So much different than the drafty castle Charles calls a house!" she exclaimed as she swept her eyes over the entrance hall.

  "It is much the same as the last you visited," Moray replied. He gestured to the parlor. "Will you not rest while your room is prepared?"

  She laughed and allowed him to lead her into the parlor. "After a long drive you ask a woman to sit down? For shame, my-what's this?"

  Greer had guided me to the stairs, but at the exclamation I noticed her eyes widened. She abandoned me for the parlor, and I followed. We entered the room and her eyes fell on the forgotten tray with its untouched food and glass and bottle of brandy. Lady Stewart stood before the tray and studied the food.

  "Breakfast at such a late hour? Have your habits changed so much, Laird Moray?" she teased him.

  "The repast was meant for my other guest, Miss McKenna," Moray explained.

  Moray glanced at Greer, who bowed her head and hurried around the couch. She reached for the tray, but Lady Stewart snatched up the glass and sniffed the contents. Greer took the tray and stepped back while Lady Stewart tested some of the drink. She raised an eyebrow and glanced from me to Moray.

  "Your guest has strange tastes. Most would wait until at least the afternoon for brandy," she commented.

  "It was my own fault. I desired for her to have a few sips to appreciate its flavor," he excused me.

  "Does the gift give her a sensitive pallet?" the lady wondered.

  "Gift?" I spoke up.

  Lady Stewart turned to me. I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth. Her eyes were the same harvest gold as those of Moray when the beast held him. She frowned and whipped her head to Moray.

  "Does she not know?" she questioned him.

  "She was raised among humans, and to see so many of us still shocks her," he explained.

  Lady Stewart's eyes flickered to me and narrowed. "I see. I'm sorry if I startled you." Her words hardly matched her bland voice, and she turned away from me and settled herself on the couch. "But send the child away, will you, dear Laird Moray? I had wanted so badly to have you to myself," she pleaded.

  "I promised McKenna I would allow her to stay here until the storm blew over-" Lady Stewart waved her fan and sighed.

  "And you are a werewolf of your word. Then I suppose she can stay, but do you not fear for her safety? I have heard some rumors of you of late that are not pleasant," she commented.

  The tray rattled in Mrs. Greer's hands and whipped her head to Moray. The color in her cheeks faded and she failed to steady her hands.

  "My laird?" she asked him.

  He pursed his lips and nodded at me. "Please remove her to her room."

  Mrs. Greer stepped towards him. "But my-"

  "Do as I tell you," he commanded.

  His firm, sharp voice made both Greer and me wince, though Lady Stewart smirked. Mrs. Greer bowed her head and hurried around the couch to me.

  "Come along now," she whispered to me.

  I pursed my lips and reluctantly turned away from the pair to the doors. Mrs. Greer shut the door behind us, and the last view I had of the room was of Moray as he stepped up to the seated Stewart. I turned my attention to the housekeeper.

  "What did she mean-"

  "Come along now, Miss McKenna," Greer interrupted as she strode across the hall.

  I hurried after her and joined her at her side. "But what did she-" I glanced in front of us and froze.

  The open door to the dining hall loomed ahead of us. Its darkened interior was lit only by the flickering, dancing light of the fireplace. I crossed my arms over my chest and shrank from the door. Mrs. Greer paused on the threshold and turned to me with a smile.

  "You have nothing to fear from this room," she assured me.

  "But what of her?" I pointed out.

  "She won't reveal herself unless you are alone, and then only on dark days such as these, now come along," she commanded me.

  Greer turned away and walked into the dining hall, and I reluctantly followed. The darkened space oppressed me with its terrifying memories, and I followed close behind Greer. She guided me through the door and into a long passage. The right end had a door that led out into the courtyard, and our left led to the hallway that ran along the front of the house. In front of us was a wide archway, and through there was a large kitchen.

  The floor was stone smoothed by countless feet, and in the center was a large table where bread was kneaded. Herbs hung over the table beside pots and pans. A great hearth stood in the wall that abutted the courtyard, and over its blazing fire was a small pig. An old woman on a stool sat beside the hearth and turned the spit. Three other ladies worked away at various chores, and one of them, a burly woman of thirty-five with thick arms, looked up and frowned. She abandoned the bread she kneaded and marched over to us.

  "What's wanted now?" she asked us.

  "The food is in need of heating," Mrs. Greer explained as she handed the tray over to the woman.

  The woman looked at the untouched morsels and her eyes narrowed. They flickered up to Greer. "Does she want it or not?"

  Mrs. Greer smiled and gestured to me. "Would you prefer I answer, or the young lady?"

  The cook glanced at me and looked me over. "Ah supposed it was you wanting the food. Yer one of them women starving yourselves for yer man, aren't ya?"

  "She had a touch of a stomach ache, Cook, nothing more, now please do as I ask," Greer commanded. Cook frowned, but turned and marched back into the kitchen. Greer turned to me with a smile. "She isn't often so curt. I'm sure she's learned of the sudden arrival of Lady Stewart and her entourage, and is under some stress to please her ladyship's delicate tastes."

  "Has Moray known Lady Stewart very long?" I wondered.

  Greer's eyes flickered to the kitchen, and she turned me around towards the dining hall. "Let us speak of such things away from prying ears."

  She led me back into the dining hall and we took our seats opposite one another. I clasped my hands in my lap and glanced at the fire.

  "You are sure she won't come again?" I asked her.

  "You have nothing to fear. As for your earlier question, Laird Moray has known Lady Stewart since before she was married. They grew up together and many thought for a long time they would be married, but her father insisted on Laird Stewart as her husband," she explained to me.

  I bit my lip and glanced down at the table. "Does. . .is Moray fond of her?"

  I lifted my head when I heard Greer chuckle and found a smile on her face. "You needn't have any fear, Abby. He feels none of that for her."

  I blushed and shook my head. "I hadn't meant it like that! I-I merely wanted to make out their relationship! Nothing more!"

  Mrs. Greer sighed and turned to look down the long table at the hearth. "Perhaps it is better that you not know. You are to leave after the storm, after all."

  We were interrupted by the arrival of one of the cooking staff, a woman younger than me, who held the tray in her hands. "If you'll pardon me, but who was to be wanting this?" she asked us.

  Greer nodded at me. "She is, Mary."

  Mary set the tray in front of me and bowed out of the room. I took fork in hand and picked over the assortment of meats, but hardly ate a bite. My mind was vexed with images of Lady Stewart as she fawned over Moray. I couldn't tamp down the jealous emotions that arose inside me.

  "Are you no longer hungry?" Mrs. Greer asked me.

  I sighed and shook my head. "I think not."

  "Perhaps you would like a tour of the house? That may stimulate your appetite," she suggested.

  I pushed the half-eaten plate away and
leaned back. "No. I would rather remain in my room for a while, if I may."

  "Of course. Allow me to lead you back," Greer offered as she stood.

  CHAPTER 12

  I hadn't the heart to tell the kind housekeeper I could manage. The house was not so large as the streets of London, nor built in such a disorganized manner. Greer guided me to my room and left me to myself. I noted that she shut the door, but did not lock it.

  The room was quiet but for the crackling fire. I sat on the end of the bed and clutched my head in my hands. So much had happened that morning that I could hardly comprehend it all. There was the woman ghost who had startled me so, and the arrival of another werewolf in the form of Lady Stewart.

  I sighed and straightened. If only I could believe that this strange existence was something more than a long and terrible dream. If only I could receive a sign that—

  Something slammed against one of the windows. I started to my feet and swung around expecting to find another terrible apparition. Instead all I glimpsed was a white blotch of snow stuck to the pane. I clutched my chest and slowed my heart with some deep breaths as I approached the unbroken glass.

  I peered out the window and onto the snow grounds of the courtyard. The white snow continued to fall in great clumps and seemed to cover all the world in its cold embrace.

  Two small forms weathered the cold and stood below my window. One was a girl of about eight with braided hair that stretched down her back, and the other was a boy of ten with bright-red mittens. The girl held a snowball in her hand, but the boy was frozen to the spot. They both looked at the window with wide, terrified eyes. I opened the window and leaned out.

  It was as though that was a signal. The girl dropped her snowball and together they rushed across the field and disappeared into the snow-clad bushes beyond.

  Here was an adventure, a chance to feel free while still confined to this strange dream-nightmare. I shut the window and swept past the bed, catching my cloak as I passed. My feet padded down the hallway and in a few moments I found myself on the stairs in the entrance hall. I reached the bottom and paused. My eyes flickered to the parlor doors. They were shut, but they did not shut out the sounds of laughter. One of those making merry was Lord Moray.

  A pang of sadness swept over me. I both longed to join them, and longed to escape this beautiful prison. The thought of the children swayed me from my sadness. I could partake in their fun if they would only become acquainted with me.

  I tiptoed off the final step and walked softly across the hall. I was but halfway when one of the parlor doors opened. Lord Moray stepped into the hall and his dark eyes fell on me. A sly smile slipped onto his lips as he walked towards me. I cringed for a moment at being caught, but rallied myself and stood tall.

  "It seems the mouse has been caught by the cat," he teased.

  "I didn't wish to disturb you and your company," I explained to him.

  Moray walked over to stand close before me. "But what brings you so quietly past my door?" he asked me.

  "A snowball hit my window and I saw some children-"

  "You must mean the boy and girl who come here," he guessed.

  I raised an eyebrow. "Then you know them? Are they yours" I wondered.

  He chuckled and shook his head. "No, they are not mine. They are the children of my gardener who resides in a small cottage in the Gardens," he explained.

  "What made you leave so quickly, you naughty Moray," Lady Stewart commented as she slipped out of the parlor. She noticed me and her eyes narrowed, but her smile remained. "Oh, it's you again. Abigail, was it?"

  I bowed my head. "That is my name."

  Lady Stewart grabbed Moray's sleeve and tugged him toward the parlor. "Come, Moray. You were just explaining to me the rules of this 'golf' game."

  "Perhaps another time, Lady Stewart. My charge wishes for me to show her some of the grounds," he replied.

  Lady Stewart pouted. "Out in this weather?"

  Moray nodded at the front windows of the hall. "It is nearly stopped."

  We followed his gaze and saw that the flakes had nearly stopped descending, though the sky was still dark and gray.

  I hung my head and bit my lower lip. "Then I am to leave soon. . ." I murmured.

  "Not too soon," he told me. "With so much snow the roads are impassible, and this is only a pause. There will be more to come in a short while." His eyes twinkled and he tilted his head to one side as he smiled at me. "Unless, of course, you do not wish to be shown the grounds."

  "I wish to be shown the children," I corrected him.

  "Then we shall accomplish both. I believe I know where they have gone," he revealed.

  I raised an eyebrow. "How?"

  He chuckled and offered me his arm. "It is much more fun to show you."

  Lady Stewart swept between us and wrapped herself around his arm. She pressed her cheek against his arm and smiled up at him. "A walk sounds delightful!"

  He smiled and bowed his head to her. "As you wish, my lady, but first we must attire ourselves appropriately."

  Their cloak and coat were brought, and Lady Stewart resumed her position as a fixture on his arm. The lord turned to me and offered me his free arm, much to the chagrin of Lady Stewart who scowled at me.

  "If you would allow me to escort you both," he requested.

  I stepped back and shook my head. "As your charge I would rather follow you."

  He pursed his lips, but bowed his head. Lady Stewart smirked, and the pair led me through the front doors. We walked down the stairs and across the snow-covered gravel around the western corner of the house. The gravel drive narrowed to a wide gravel path that wound its way around the building. Trees rose up on our left, and on our right were hedges that encircled the home. Beyond the thick rows of trees lay scattered, open fields that were used as pasture. The pastures stopped at the foot of the tall hills and clouds hid the top of those craggy domains.

  The gravel path followed the shape of the house and turned right at the rear. We did as well and came upon the rear of the field. The path continued its journey around the house, but there was also a path on our left. It led to high walls made from hedges, and within those hedges were more hedges and small alcoves were stood stones benches and statues on podiums. The hedges stretched into the distance far out of my short sight, and it stretched so wide it was nearly as long as the house.

  The lord led us to the entrance and we paused to behold its frozen wonder.

  "A hedge maze?" I guessed as I looked to the lord.

  He smiled and nodded. "It is. The maze has been a source of pride for my family for a few generations."

  "It is the best in all of Scotland," Lady Stewart agreed.

  "And you believe the children are in there?" I guessed.

  He pointed at the ground. "Do those not prove me right?"

  I followed his finger and saw a pair of small feet. The snow that fell partially obscured their footprints and in a few minutes they would be lost. My eyes widened and I whipped my head to the entrance to the maze.

  "But they may be lost!" I gasped.

  The lord chuckled and shook his head. "No. They are very familiar with the maze. However, we will have great sport in finding them." He turned to me with that twinkle in his eyes. "What do you say to a game of hide-and-seek?"

  I smiled. "I would heartily agree to it."

  Lady Stewart whimpered and tugged on Lord Moray's arm. "But it's so cold. Can we not go back inside?"

  He nodded at the house behind us. "You may, if you wish. The path only awaits your feet," he invited her.

  Her eyes flickered to me and she wrapped herself tighter around his arm. "Then let us have our 'fun' and be done."

  He bowed his head. "As you wish."

  Moray led us into the maze. The tall hedges towered over us, and each corner was like stepping onto a new path. More turns and corners opened up and revealed statues, benches, a few fountains, and small flower beds. Some of the hedges grew close together so th
at Lady Stewart could hardly walk arm-in-arm with the lord. All the time we followed the faint footsteps of our young hunted.

  After a few minutes I noticed a change in the footprints. They stretched farther apart.

  "Have their legs stretched?" I wondered.

  Moray shook his head. "No. We have been discovered, and they seek to escape us by running. We must quicken the pace or we will be left behind."

  "But how could they know?" I asked him. "We have hardly made a sound."

  "They have their ways," he replied. "But hurry."

  CHAPTER 13

  Moray led us quickly along the path, and in a few minutes the hedges opened and revealed a small flower garden. On either side of the widened gravel path were the long, narrow beds, and in front of us was an open area. On the opposite side was a mirror image of where we had entered, and the left and right showed the same. Travelers on all four paths that led to the fountain were forced to walk beneath a wide arch made of the hedges, and the columns of the arches connected with the hedge walls to hide the very corners of the center area. In the very center of the four points was a circular flower bed filled with snow-covered rose bushes arranged around a raised, empty fountain. In the center of the fountain was a wolf statue as large as I. It sat atop a pedestal with its head leaned back and bayed silently at the sky.

  We stopped and I noticed the footprints parted at the arches and traveled in opposite directions. There was one to the left and the other to the right. Something on the left moved. I squinted and recognized the red face of the girl as she peeked out from behind the hedge arch. I smiled and held out my hand.

  "Hello there," I called. The girl cringed and slipped out of view. "I won't hurt you. I just want to know you," I pleaded with her.

  "Heather," Moray called. The little girl peeked her face around the corner. Moray gestured to her. "Come here."

  The little girl slid around the corner and bowed her head as she walked up to the lord. She rubbed her toe in the snow and clasped her hands together behind her back. Moray's eyes looked to the right-hand corner.

  "Adam. Come here," he commanded.

  The little boy shuffled into view and joined his sister before the tall lord. Both of them bowed their heads and shrank beneath his dark gaze.

  "We didn't mean to, honest, my laird," Heather sniffled.

  "It was an accident," Adam agreed. "The snowball slipped from my hand."