Beloved Ruins, Book 1 Read online

  Tam had a hint of a smile on his face when he answered. “I’ve plenty of time to think of it. Go to Laird Swinton. Tell him to say he has her, but father must come for her himself.”

  “And when he does?”

  “I shall pay Laird Swinton’s price for killin’ him.”

  Osgar’s eyes slowly lit up. “Your plan is a good one, yet do you trust Laird Swinton? He has not always been honest.”

  “Aye, but he has always been greedy.”

  “True. What do I tell the king? He is quite put out that she dinna secure an alliance with the French.”

  “Tell him I shall see that she does, if I must take her to France myself. ‘Tis just a slight delay, is all.”

  “A costly delay if the English suddenly turn their attentions back to the Scots.”

  “In that case, go swiftly, Osgar, and secure my freedom. ‘Tis the only way.”

  Osgar nodded, put his hand through the bars and then on Tam’s shoulder to comfort him. “Leave it to me.” He turned and went back up the steps. When he reached Barra, he set the candle down and then reached into his pocket. He counted out four gold coins, gave them to the guard, and then said, “Feed him. He may well be the next Laird.”

  The guard pocketed the money. “We pray for the day.”

  “I cannae stay. I am off again to find Seona.” He took hold of the guard’s arm, and then carefully stepped into the boat. “Tell Laird Dalldon to stay within and to make ready the reward, for I shall soon return with his daughter.”

  “If anyone can find her, ‘tis you. Godspeed,” the guard said as he handed Osgar the boat rope. He watched as his old friend began to row away, picked up the sack, and disappeared into the darkness of the castle.

  KENTIGERN MANOR, 1911

  “My love,” said Nicholas, “Do you intend to read the whole night through? We are to meet the ship tomorrow, and you need your rest.”

  McKenna sighed, put a marker in the book, and closed it. “Aye, but promise to bring Alistair and Sarah home quickly so we may read the rest of the story.”

  He took both her hands and pulled her up off the sofa. “There are three books, do not forget. Perhaps we should savor the reading, and keep it for evenings after dinner.”

  “You are right, of course,” she said as she climbed the stairs. “But what do you suppose...”

  “Sleep, McKenna, sleep.” He checked the front door, switched off the downstairs lights, and then followed her to their bedroom.

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Nicholas heard a faint knock on the door, got up, put on his robe, and went downstairs to see who it was. When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Charles standing there, and when Charles motioned for him to step outside, he obliged and softly closed the door behind him. “What is it?”

  Charles kept his voice to just above a whisper hoping no one else could hear as he leaned close to Nicholas’s ear and told him about the wooden gravestone.

  “What?” Nicholas gasped as he drew his head back.

  “The date of her birth is left off, but it says died, 1911.”

  It took a moment for Nicholas to digest what he had just heard before he asked, “Have there been any other threats?”

  “Nay, just the one, but I hired a night guard just the same.”

  “Good. Who else knows?”

  “I thought it best not to tell anyone but you.”

  “I do not take a threat against my wife lightly.”

  “Nor do I,” said Charles.

  “You did the right thing. No need to upset everyone until we know more. How did anyone learn McKenna was coming?”

  “The rebuildin’ of a castle is big news. There was an article in the Edinburgh paper about her comin’ home to oversee it.”

  “I see. Well, Alistair shall be here today and I shall ask his advice. Have you any idea who might have done it?”

  “None at all.” Charles put his hat back on. “I best get to the castle. There is work aplenty to be had.”

  “Call as soon as they get the telephone connected.”

  “I will.” With that, Charles walked out the gate, mounted his horse, and rode away.

  As soon as Charles was gone, Nicholas went back inside, checked the time, and placed a call to the telephone company. Once that was accomplished, he went upstairs and woke McKenna. As soon as his wife was dressed and ready to go, he bid the nanny and his sons goodbye, and then drove the two of them to the train station.

  AMID RUMORS OF AN IMPENDING dock worker’s strike, the enormous ship bringing a full count of people from America to Great Britain was already docked in Liverpool by the time McKenna and Judge Mitchel arrived in their rented carriage. As usual, the wooden pier was bustling with people, and filled with a multitude of waiting buggies, carriages, and shiny new automobiles. One of the newer ships built in Ireland, the HMS Olympic was a giant of a ship fitted, the papers said, with all the luxuries the builders could imagine.

  Awestruck by its size, it was not the ship McKenna breathlessly waited to see, and as she and Nicholas made their way through the crowd – it was Alistair. She could not remember a time when the tall, prim and proper butler had not been in the Duke of Glenartair’s service, be it her uncle before his death, her brother Hannish and later her brother Cameron. A little late in life, the Scottish Alistair married the perfect wife for him, Sarah, an American, and together they had two sons who were just the right age to be perfect playmates for Nicholas and McKenna’s sons.

  Scottish born Cook Jessie, on the other hand, was quite some older and had never married. Twas never enough time, Jessie was known to say, not with so many to cook for in Marblestone Mansion. As far as anyone could tell, Jessie was quite content and did not resent the lack of a husband. The MacGreagor children were her children and the next generation was hers as well. Furthermore, Jessie claimed her speckled gray hair was not a sign of age – it was simply a sign of superior wisdom.

  As soon as the ship’s gangway was in place and the first of the passengers began to disembark, shouts of joy arose from both the passengers and those on the pier waiting. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs, men tipped or took off their hats, and more shouts came during happy reunions.

  Just as excited, McKenna started waving her handkerchief the instant she spotted Alistair and Sarah starting down. Behind them, Cook Jessie paused at the top of the gangway to draw in another breath of United Kingdom air, the likes of which she had not breathed in nearly ten years. She cared not who was in a hurry behind her, for she imagined she could even smell Scottish Pines, even if Scotland was still many miles away. At last, she started down the stairs.

  McKenna flew into Alistair’s arms. “I am so happy to see all of you. We have been most lonely here.”

  “For all of three days?” Alistair teased. “You become impossible to please, McKenna MacGreagor.”

  “And I have missed your constant scoldin’ the most,” McKenna said as she greeted Sarah with a hug and their two sons with a pat on the head for each.

  “First thing, I must pass on a message,” said Sarah, “or Miss Abigail Whitfield shall have my head. She said to say they have already booked passage on a ship due to sail to us come spring next.”

  “Aye,” said cook Jessie, “and I promised to do the same. Miss Abigail Whitfield wishes you to know she has already booked passage on a ship by the name of Titanic, which is to land in New York in April and then bring all the Whitfields back to us on its return voyage.”

  “Dear Abigail, I do so miss her sewin’ circle. Are my brothers well?” McKenna asked.

  Alistair tipped his hat, “Aye. Just now, I suspect we should see to the luggage.”

  McKenna watched as Alistair and the judge took the boys off to find their luggage and then hugged Sarah again. “I have so much to tell you.”

  “And I you,” said Sarah. “Is it true...about the baby, I mean?”

  McKenna patted her slightly extended stomach. “Aye, number three.”

  “Does the Judge know?” />
  “I tried not to tell him for he frets so, but he guessed.”

  “He frets because he loves you,” Cook Jessie soothed. “And how does he like Scotland?”

  “He has not complained, but we have only just arrived and he has yet to see very much of it. Oh, my dearest friends. Do prepare yourselves – the castle is a fright. I confess I cried when I saw what little is truly left of it.”

  “Worse still than in the pictures?” Sarah asked.

  “Ten times worse,” McKenna answered. She motioned toward the rented carriage and started them walking that direction. “Yet there is some good news. You shall never guess what the lads found under the castle.”

  “What?” Jessie asked.

  “Books,” McKenna answered.

  “What kind of books?” Jessie asked, grateful that the crowd was thinning out and that some of the vehicles were already leaving. “They are the lost MacGreagor stories.”

  “Truly? May we read them?” Sarah asked.

  “Of course. My darlin’ husband suggested we have a readin’ each night after dinner. We read some of it last night, and I tell you true, ‘twas madness tearin’ myself away long enough to meet your ship.”

  “I cannae wait,” said Jessie. “Have we an agreeable place to stay until the castle is rebuilt?”

  “We have,” McKenna answered. Charles managed to let a large manor house not awfully far from Glenartair. I find it most comfortable and there is plenty of room for the children to play. However, I am afraid Jessie shall not find the kitchen to be as convenient as the one at Marblestone.”

  “If ‘tis in Scotland,” said Jessie, “I shall manage well enough.”

  “I assure you, ‘tis in Scotland,” McKenna giggled. “Tell me what is happening at Marblestone. I have yet to receive a letter, and...”

  AS SOON AS NICHOLAS got the luggage on the train and everyone settled in their seats, he spirited Alistair away so they could talk. In the hallway of a luggage car, he took a deep breath.

  The prim and proper MacGreagor butler frowned as he listened to what Charles said about the grave marker. “Whose name is written on it?”

  “McKenna MacGreagor,” Nicholas whispered.

  Alistair’s mouth dropped. “Who would want to put her in the ground?”

  “I was hoping you might have an idea. She left Scotland ten years ago. Did she have any enemies before she left?”

  “Other than the abominable duchess who has plagued this family for years? I’d not put this kind of tomfoolery past that one.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Cameron assures me we need not fret over the duchess ever again.”

  “Does he know somethin’ we do not?”

  “If he does, he has not said a word to me. Who else could it be?”

  “I dinna know. Once we are settled, I shall ask in town to see if anyone has noticed a stranger.”

  “Can you ask without telling them why you want to know?”

  “I shall think of somethin’. We best get back before our wives think us lost.” Alistair was disturbed, but he had a smile on his face when he took a seat beside Sarah.

  In the seat opposite them, McKenna couldn’t wait to tell them about the books and by the end of their three hour train ride, she had gotten them completely up to date with what was happening in the MacGreagor glen in 1371.

  After dinner, when she suggested she read to them, Nicholas said, “My love, can you not see they are tired?”

  “Not that tired,” Alistair countered.

  When both Jessie and Sarah agreed, Nicholas gave in, sat beside his wife on the davenport, and watched as she once more opened the book.

  “The learning of English did not get on well with the MacGreagor lads, even after Michael decided they should move the lessons to evenings. Still, it would take a full week before the people began to attend. At Master Balric’s suggestion, the wives were encouraged to join their husbands, and that seemed to settle the matter for the greater part of the clan. The lads were most interested in learning words the English used in the marketplace to cheat them, and after that, which words had to do with planning an attack. The women were not left out and learned about buying cloth and other household goods from the English.

  Meanwhile, Michael continued to join the children. He marveled at how much faster the children were able to master the words than he, and feared he would need extra teaching if he were to keep up. It was a good thing, then that both teachers lived in the castle with him. Kester learned a word or two in English, and then stopped coming. She and Birdie decided checking up on the rest of the clan was far more enticing.

  Regrettably, all over the Kingdom of Scotland, word of a generous reward was on the lips of more than one lad, for thousands of pounds was more than most made in a lifetime. Speculation as to where Laird Dalldon’s daughter was hiding spread with it, and eventually some came to the same conclusion – where else but in the MacGreagor glen? It was only a matter of time before...”

  MACGREAGOR GLEN, 1371

  It was not as though unmarried MacGreagor women wouldn’t gladly give up milking cows or tending gardens to work as a chambermaid in the castle, but finding one that did not complain was starting to give Rory a headache. At first, he thought suggesting the other woman in the clan named Grizel might be entertaining, but he doubted Michael would see the humor in it.

  Attending to his normal duties of riding out to see the conditions of the crops and who needed help with the planting, he sought the young women out and asked the same question. “How are you this fine Scottish morn?”

  “Our milk cow went dry this morn,” said the first, followed by, “I long for a new skirt, but Father says nay...If only it would rain again so I need not haul water to the garden...’Tis so cold I am chilled to the bone, I am...it looks like rain, and I hate the rain...and finally, “How do you think I am? Can you not see I’ve too much work and not enough daylight?”

  By the time he returned to the glen he supposed he had heard every complaint known to man. If anyone knew who he could get to be maid to Grizel, he thought it would be Kester. That evening he went to ask her advice...if he could find her.

  Naturally, he went to her cottage first. She was not home, but Lindsey was, so he helped her get all her supplies put away, made certain the grating was in place and the fire in her pit was out. Lindsey yawned three times before Rory took the hint and went about finding Kester again. He walked one path, then another and another and still there was no sign of the elder woman or Birdie. His last hope was to find her in the castle, and sure enough, she was coming out just as he opened the door to the inner courtyard.

  “There you be.”

  “Am I lost?” Kester asked. She glanced around as though she might actually be, and then frowned. “Nay, you have only gone daft.” She brushed right past him and started out the door.

  “I have come seekin’ your advice.”

  Kester was still frowning as she turned down the path toward her cottage. “I have tried, but I cannae convince Lindsey to accept you.”

  “You have?” he asked, scurrying to catch up. “Does she say why she will not accept me?”

  “I have seen much at my age, but never have I reasoned why a lass dinna choose the best husband for her.”

  At least it was good to know Kester approved of him, although it didn’t help much if Lindsey would not listen. At length, he remembered what he wanted to ask. “Michael wishes me to find a chambermaid for Grizel.”

  At that, Kester stopped and turned to face him. “A what?”

  “A chambermaid.” From the look of disgust on her face, he decided he best add, “and a wife for Master Balric.”

  “You seek two lasses?”

  “Nay, just one. She must be willin’ to care for Grizel and for Master Balric’s sake, she must not be prone to complainin’.”

  “I was mistaken. ‘Tis Michael who has lost his wits.” She touched the top of Birdie’s head and then started down the path again.

  �
��Then you will not help me?”

  “For you, I shall think on it, but know this – for Grizel I would help you find the most disagreeable lass in the clan.”

  Rory stopped and watched her walk away. When Kester disliked someone, she was usually right about them, but he had no idea why she despised Grizel enough to wish her misery.

  By the next day, however, Rory had just the right woman in mind. She was unmarried, old enough to be called a spinster, yet young enough to make Master Balric a good wife. She complained, occasionally, but not nearly as often as others, and he was well aware that every man had to overlook the shortcomings of a wife. To Rory’s way of thinking, Master Balric would just have to do the same.

  Beitris was a weaver by trade. A short woman with more weight on her bones than most, she answered the knock on the door with a pleasing smiled. “Rory, ‘tis good to see you.”

  “Might I have a word or two?”

  “Of course.” She glanced behind her for no other reason than to remember which stitch she needed to take next, stepped outside her door and closed it.

  “Michael is in need of a chambermaid?” Rory boldly said.

  “What is a chambermaid?” Beitris asked.

  Rory chuckled. “I dinna rightly know, but as near as I can tell, ‘tis a lass hired to care for the lasses livin’ in Michael’s castle.”

  At first she smiled, and then she frowned. “Care for Grizel, is it?”

  “Aye, and for Elena I suspect, although Michael dinna exactly say as much.”

  “Michael wishes me to tend them?”

  “He asked me to find a lass and I thought of you. You’ll likely have to live in the castle.”

  Her eyes instantly lit up. Beitris tugged on Rory’s shirt sleeve and moved them both a little farther away from her door. “I do not complain, but I am forced to live with my brother and his family. Might Michael see that I have a room of my own?”

  “I know of no other kind in the castle.”

  Beitris paused to consider the situation a little more. “I am to see to the lasses needs and what else?”