Laird of the Mist Page 6

  ―My brother, Ian,‖ it said in Carrick‘s elegant hand. ―I am off to bring Jenny home, for I have reason to believe she yet lives. I appoint you laird in my absence. You have my blessing. Carrick, Laird MacDonell, Beinn Fhithich.‖

  ―Damn.‖ Ian breathed in frustration as he sipped his whisky.

  ―I heard that,‖ Molly said from the doorway.―Still fixed on Carrick, are ye?‖ she asked, seating herself in an opposite chair as she reached for the whisky decanter.―Ye‘ll torture yerself for no good reason, lad. Carrick does as he must, and so will ye. He has always done his best for ye, Ian. He sent ye away to France to be educated, rather than fight in the bloody rising.‗Twas a good decision. Dinna doubt him now.‖

  Ian laid the note on the desk with a heavy sigh.―Aye, Carrick has always been wise. But how can he believe Jenny lives? We all ken she is long dead. He seeks a ghost.‖

  ―Nay, Ian,‖ Molly admonished her younger son.―Carrick is no addled. He wouldna have left had he no sound information otherwise. We must trust his judgment in this.‖

  ―I s‘pose,‖ Ian replied, taking another sip of the soothing amber liquid.―But I canna help wondering why he didna tell us more. Where he was going, what news he had, ye ken?‖

  ―Oh aye, I wish he had,‖ Molly answered.―Yer brother was always a private one. We havena choice but to respect it and get on with things until he returns.‖

  ―Do ye truly believe he will?‖

  ―Of course he will.‖ Molly reached out and patted his hand.―He kens the troubles, surely. He wouldna leave us to fend alone could he help it. Aye, he will come home to us. And ye must do yer verra best as laird until he does.‖

  ―Aye, then.‖ Ian nodded.―I shall. I had word today Cumberland‘s troops are spreading out from Inverness. Likely they will be on our doorstep soon.‖

  ―Then we shall have to prepare ourselves, shan‘t we?‖ Molly stood and drained her whisky. ―We will begin in the morning. Now, ye need to sleep so ye can have yer strength for the task.‖

  ―Aye, mother,‖ Ian agreed as Molly bent to hug him.―I will be to bed soon.‖ ―Good night then,‖ Molly said softly as she left the study with a strong sense of foreboding.

  Chapter Eight

  ―Pillaged and burnt 29 May, 1746,‖ Carrick read the plaque which stood in front of the ruined Invergarry Castle. It was now fenced completely around with no way to enter and investigate.

  Having deposited Guinness, the cat, with the animal-loving Lydia and closing up the house, they had come to Invergarry to be wed a few days after the ball.

  ―I left here 21 May, 1746.‖ Carrick counted aloud.―That means...‖

  ―Today is 27 May.‖ Hamish stated. He and Olivia had joined them.

  ―Well,‖ Carrick reasoned.―If I am correct, in my time, it will happen day after tomorrow. And there is no a thing I can do. Do ye ken what happened to the family?‖

  ―No.‖ Hamish shook his head.―But I‘m sure we can find the answer.‖

  ―It‘s okay, Carrick.‖ Cat put her hand on his shoulder.―You couldn‘t have done anything if you had been there. We can go to Beinn Fhithich though, and see what there is of that.‖

  ―Aye, so we shall.‖ He took her hand as they began walking back to the nearby hotel where they were staying.―A lovely old manse this,‖ he gestured toward the Glengarry Castle Hotel, once a Victorian mansion.

  ―And a great choice for your wedding,‖ Olivia chirped, trying to cheer everyone as usual.

  ―I‘ll fetch the car,‖ Hamish offered and strode ahead down the long, tree-lined drive, Olivia in tow.

  ―You‘re still looking a bit green, Carrick,‖ Cat observed.―Is it from the plane, or seeing the castle?‖

  ―Aye.‖ Carrick stopped and looked sheepishly at her.―The plane was a bit of a turn. I‘ll never understand how such a great metal beast remains in the air. But truth is, the castle was more of a fright.‖

  ―I can imagine.‖ Cat nodded. ―You must be worried to death about Molly and Ian.‖

  ―Verra much.‖ He took a deep breath and started walking again.―Nothing I can do in the here and now, so best to get on with it.‖

  ―In ye go.‖ Hamish pulled the rented Mercedes next to them.―Are ye up to the trip, Carrick?‖

  ―Oh aye, I think so,‖ he answered, climbing into the back seat with Cat.―Let us see what remains.‖

  ―It looks great!‖ Olivia exclaimed as they rounded the bend to find the looming great house of Beinn

  Fhithich.

  ―No burnt nor bombed at least,‖ Carrick agreed, as the car pulled to a stop in front.―Vacant though, it

  appears.‖

  ―Great!‖ Olivia lept from the car.―Then we can explore.‖

  ―Be careful, Olivia,‖ Cat warned as they walked up the front stone steps to the door.―We don‘t know

  how bad it is inside. It looks like it has been abandoned for some time.‖

  Carrick pushed carefully on the wooden door.―‗Tis empty,‖ he said, stepping into the hall.―Full of

  dirt, but no much else.‖

  ―Oh my!‖ Cat took a breath as she entered the large sitting room to the right.―I remember this room so

  well. When I last saw it, there were tapestries and lovely chairs.‖

  ―Aye, Cat.‖ Carrick put his arm around her.―You recall correctly. Welcome home, such as it may

  be.‖

  ―Aye.‖ Hamish cleared his throat.―Welcome home to ye both,‖ he said, handing Cat a packet of

  papers.

  ―What is this?‖ Cat took the packet and turned it over to open it. Pulling out the papers, her face lit and

  a smile flooded her expression.―Oh, grandda!‖ She threw her arms around him.―How can I thank you?‖ ―What is it?‖ Olivia interrupted.―What‘s going on?‖

  ―Grandda has bought the house and land for us—a wedding gift!‖ She handed the papers to Carrick

  who looked them over.

  ―‗Tis verra generous of ye, sir.‖ He was astonished at the gift.―But I canna accept such a...‖ ―Aye ye can, and ye will,‖ Hamish reprimanded.―It is my wish that my great-grandchildren be born

  in my home country. And it is the least I can do for my Caitriona‘s happiness.‖

  ―Well then,‖ Carrick shook his hand in gratitude.―We most gratefully accept yer kind gift and will do

  our best to give ye yer wish.‖

  ―Do I have any say in this?‖ Cat broke in, laughing.

  ―Of course ye do, lass,‖ Hamish apologized.―I only assumed...‖

  ―And you assumed correctly,‖ Cat teased him.―It is a wonderful gift, grandda. Thank you with all of

  my heart.‖

  ―Don‘t thank me too soon,‖ he chided.―Ye have yer work cut out for ye by the look of it,‖ waving a

  hand around the place, which would need a great deal of restoration.

  ―Hard work I can do.‖ Carrick beamed proudly.―This once was fine, arable land and rich in cattle. No

  reason it canna be again. Let‘s see how much will be needed.‖

  They explored every inch of the mansion, making mental notes of what would have to be done. Parts

  of the house had been restored at some point. It was entirely possible that the structure had seen some damage

  in the Culloden aftermath, but even those restorations needed repair. When they finished their inspection,

  Carrick grew somber.

  ―I have put it off long enough,‖ he said quietly.―It is time to see their graves.‖

  ―Yes.‖ Cat took his hand tenderly.―Yes, we should do that.‖

  Carrick led them up to the top of the hill behind the house, a beautiful view down the glen and beyond

  it, Loch Oich. A spectacular resting place for those lost loved ones. Picking a handful of wildflowers growing

  at the edge of the path, Cat nodded to Olivia to do the same.

  Carrick stopped abruptly and surveyed the stone markers, a puzzled look on his fa
ce. ―I dinna understand,‖ he murmured.―Where are they?‖

  Cat quickly read the names on the stones and shook her head.―Molly and Ian. They aren‘t here. What

  could have happened to them?‖

  ―I dinna ken, but there must be an answer and I intend to find it.‖

  ― Carrick?‖ Cat knocked lightly on the door of his hotel room. It was past midnight and she had not been able to sleep thinking of Molly and Ian. She needed the comfort of Carrick, even though she had said she would not make love with him until after the wedding. Somehow the tradition of waiting appealed to her. But it suddenly seemed right to be with him after the events of the day.

  ―Are you there?‖ she asked, not certain he had heard. Perhaps he was asleep.

  As she was about to turn back to her own room, the door creaked open, a soft light spilling into the hall, illuminating the winding staircase behind her.

  ―Caitriona?‖ Carrick opened the door wider for her.―Ye must get yer rest for the ceremony in the morn. What are ye about this hour?‖ He was clad in only his great kilt, hastily wrapped and draped around his body with clearly nothing underneath. The sight of him stole the breath.

  ―I—I couldn‘t sleep,‖ she stuttered.

  ―Ye‘d best come in then.‖ He pulled her into the room.―Ye canna stand there in yer dressing gown for all to see.‖

  ―Who will see?‖ She laughed lightly.―The wee ghosties?‖

  ―Dinna mock the ghosties, Cat,‖ he chided.―Ye shouldna be in my room until after we are wed the morrow, lass. What will they think of us?‖

  ―Carrick.‖ Cat sat in an antique chair.―I explained to you. In this time, no one thinks badly of an engaged couple sleeping together.‖

  ―Aye, so ye said.‖ Carrick sat on the bed.―Still...‖

  ―Never mind all of that,‖ Cat interrupted.―What are we to do about Molly and Ian?‖

  ―Ye ken yer grandda has asked the historical people to have a look in their records,‖ he answered calmly.―So we wait. No much else, aye?‖

  ―I suppose.‖ Cat looked into her hands.―I just hope they can find something soon.‖

  ―And I.‖ Carrick rose and pulled her into his arms.―But we already ken they are gone, so it willna make much difference. I‘d just like to ken that they were put to rest properly, aye?‖

  ―Of course,‖ she said, looking up into his soft blue eyes. His touch and presence distracted her thoughts and teased at her sensually, causing her concerns to momentarily flee.―I do love you so,‖ she said, her blood racing at his touch.

  In response, Carrick bent to kiss her, his hands smoothing her long hair down her back.―Ye could kill me with wanting ye so,‖ he whispered.

  Cat tentatively slipped her hand up his naked thigh under his kilt. His hard flesh twitched in response to her touch and he pulled back.

  ―Nay, Cat, ye mustn‘t," he admonished her.

  The mist in her body was rapidly overtaking her.―Oh yes,‖ she said between kisses over his chest. ―I‘m afraid we must,‖ she insisted, gently pulling the tartan from his shoulder to expose his bare torso, a long newly-healed, pink scar down one shoulder.

  Tenderly, she ran her finger, trailed by her tongue, down the scar.―Culloden.‖ she said, recognizing it.

  Carrick nodded and lifted her into his sinewy arms.―Are ye sure?‖ He carried her toward the inviting, high bed.

  ―More than anything in my life,‖ Cat assured him, and closed her eyes. She wanted to savor every moment now, let it fill her, invade her, and flood her with the passion she could no longer suppress. She had waited too long for this blessed reunion with her soul mate; she would have every bit of it.

  As if she were a precious gem, Carrick laid her on the bed and began to kiss her everywhere. He explored and found the laces of her gown. Deftly, he untied them to reveal the firm and awakened treasures beneath.

  Cat moaned ferally as his tongue touched each mound, yearning for his attention. She ran her fingers up the hollow of his thigh where the muscles met and twined.

  The mist between her own thighs thickened and spread a flaming glow throughout her awakened body. Her hands traveled farther onto his buttocks, encouraging him with her caresses.

  He was a considerate, generous lover and Cat reciprocated. With sure hands and tongues, they rediscovered each other‘s secrets and memories sprang anew.

  Separated by war, death, and time, they renewed their love in physical union; explosive as the cannons which had denied them.

  ―Two hundred years is a verra long time to wait,‖ Carrick managed between expended breaths.―Let us no wait so long again, aye?‖ he said.

  Contented, Cat curled round him in agreement. His love had found the keys to her soul.

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia carefully made her way to the landing outside her room and felt the wall for the light switch. She had awakened before dawn, as she usually did when she traveled to Scotland. Funny, she didn‘t get jet lag coming to Scotland, she got it when she returned to the States, where she would sleep for a couple of days to catch up.

  In the darkness of the hour, she had the castle all to herself. Not a single person was about and it gave her a sense of peace. It would be a fine thing to sketch the sunrise, she thought as she secured her pad under her arm.

  Finally, she found the switch and turned on the light, casting away the gloom. She nimbly made her way down the long staircase to the ground floor and turned the lights on in the hallway. Switching off the stair‘s light behind her, she ventured on into the large entry hall and made her way to the oak door that was the castle‘s entrance. A printed sign on the door read, Please bolt the door when you return. Door is not self-locking.

  She found the iron bolt and pulled it across to open the door. A real bolted door, she smiled to herself, enjoying the antiquity of the place. The age and mood of the Victorian castle engulfed her as she stepped out onto the stone steps, shivering slightly in the mist that greeted her.

  Olivia sketched for a few minutes as she watched the sun rise over the loch. The cold began to permeate, and regretfully, she stepped back inside the door, bolting it as the sign requested. Not ready to go back to her room, she sank comfortably into an overstuffed wing chair and sketched a bit more.

  The silence was broken by a strange sound, as though someone was walking through the room. Light footsteps alerted her and she looked up from her pad.

  Standing across the room was a tall man dressed in a Clan Donell kilt, matching hose, a plaid draped over his shoulder, and a dirk at his waist. He stared silently at her with a smug smile, his brown hair flowing down his collar.

  ―Who are you?‖ Olivia whispered to him.―Why have you come?‖

  The apparition nodded to her in a courtly gesture and slowly faded away.

  Olivia shook off the vision she had just witnessed and hastily began drawing him on her pad while she could still recall his features. Perhaps one of the castle staff would know who he was.

  ― Good morning, grandda.‖ Cat kissed her grandfather‘s cheek before sitting at the elegantly laid table.―Did you sleep well?‖

  ―Aye, Caitriona,‖ Hamish answered with an affectionate smile.―And a good day to ye too,‖ he greeted Carrick, who seated himself in one of the burgundy striped chairs. The dining room was warm and welcoming. Crisp, white tablecloths, Victorian wallpaper, and a fireplace gave the ambience of a home.

  ―A fine view of the loch.‖ Carrick nodded toward the windows.―A verra comfortable manse, this,‖ he commented, sipping the strong coffee that had been poured for him.

  ―I thought no one would ever get up!‖ Olivia plopped into her chair and grabbed a scone.―I‘m starving.‖

  ―How long have you been awake?‖ Cat asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

  ―I got up to watch the sunrise.‖ She laid her sketch pad on the table and poured herself some tea.―You won‘t believe what I saw.‖

  ―What did ye see?‖ Carrick asked, since Hamish and Cat were
busy with their toast.

  ―Well…‖ Olivia was clearly excited.―I was sitting alone in the foyer, and all of a sudden, a ghost appeared. Honest, I‘m not kidding,‖ she said to Cat, who was giving her a skeptical look from across the table.

  ―Okay, Olivia,‖ Cat patronized her.―If you say so.‖

  ―Hey, I even drew him,‖ Olivia protested, opening her sketchbook to the drawing.―See for yourself.‖ She handed the portrait to Cat.

  ―Nice drawing,‖ Cat said, examining it closely.―No one I recognize.‖ She handed the pad to Carrick. ―Anyone you know?‘ she said, half joking.

  Carrick took the pad and studied the drawing intently.―Aye,‖ he said finally.―I know him. He‘s my cousin John.‖

  ―You‘re serious?‖ Cat was taken aback.―You mean John MacDonell, Chief of Glengarry from your time?‖

  ―Oh, aye,‖ Carrick nodded, still looking at the drawing.―Ye should remember him, Cat.‖

  ―I only met him a few times, and my memories are still coming back slowly.‖ She looked over at the drawing again.―He‘s the one who let his first wife starve to death, isn‘t he?‖

  ―He did? Wow! This is great!‖ Olivia was beaming.―I really did see a ghost.‖

  ―Of course ye did.‖ Hamish squeezed her hand.―The place is full of them.‖

  ―And a right fair image of him, too, Olivia,‖ Carrick complimented her. ―Ye have him dead on. I wonder why he appeared to ye as he did.‖

  ―Thanks, Carrick.‖ She grinned, retrieving the pad. ―It was quite an experience. But he just kind of glowered at me. Didn‘t feel like talking, I guess.‖

  ―And you talk too much,‖ Cat teased her. ―He probably couldn‘t get a word in.‖

  Everyone laughed at that, enjoying the companionable breakfast.

  ―Olivia‘s artistic skill reminds me.‖ Hamish grew serious. ―Ye have yer birth certificate, Carrick? The priest will need it this afternoon.‖

  Carrick nodded and swallowed his egg. ―Aye, I do,‖ he answered. ―‗Tis safe in the room.‖

  ―Good.‖ Hamish sat back in his chair.―Our Olivia is a brilliant forger, what with the help of a computer. Put her art to good use, I say. Ye do remember,‖ he continued,―ye must go to Inverness and obtain a passport. We were lucky to get ye into the country, but ye shall no leave again without it.‖