by Willa Blair
“That’s so sad.”
Ian swept the beam along the furniture and tabletops. “This area has been sealed off for a very long time. Still, I’m shocked no one has suspected its existence, broken in, and pilfered it.” He played his flashlight beam up the walls.
A large painting of a Scottish deerhound in an ornate frame dominated the wall fronting the staircase.
“Look at him,” Lara breathed and moved closer, threading her way between chairs and side tables to reach the outside wall. “What a beautiful painting. Someone must have loved that dog.”
“Aye, I expect so.” Ian brought the light closer.
Something glinted at the bottom of the frame. Lara rubbed away the dust to reveal an engraved brass plate. “It says ‘The Macaulay’s Finest, Fergus.’ Do you suppose that’s the dog’s name?”
“I have no idea.” Ian played the light over the painting. “He must have been a damn fine hunting dog for them to immortalize him this way.”
“He looks fierce enough.” Lara studied the brass plate again. “Who was the Macaulay?”
“Is there a date?”
Ian’s question drew her back to the brass plate. “I don’t see one. Shine the light in the bottom corners. Maybe the artist signed and dated the painting.”
He complied, but even with both lights, she couldn’t make anything out. “The artist—or time—has darkened the edges of the image so much, I can’t tell. Maybe the date’s on the back. We’ll see when we get it into better light. Should we take it down?”
“Not yet. Let’s look around some more first.”
“The stairways are open,” Rollo reported. “I’ll go down first and see what’s below.”
“Be careful,” Lara told him, earning a grin from Ian.
The other side of the stairway was equally crowded. She had to move carefully to avoid knocking anything over, and her growing excitement made navigating the tight space difficult. “There’s too much here,” she remarked.
“Aye, some of this must have been stored here from other houses that existed back then.”
“Why?”
“Once we figure out what all of this is, maybe it will tell us.”
Rollo came back up. “Not much down there.” He looked around. “Do ye want to try going up?”
Ian nodded. “Might as well. I’ll go first, then Lara. Rollo, you stay here for now in case we get in trouble.”
Rollo nodded.
Lara couldn’t believe anyone would be content to wait. She followed Ian as he threaded his way toward the bottom of the upward staircase.
Despite their care, by the time they reached it, they were covered in dust from the waist down. She’d track more dust back into the house than the twins had.
She forgot her annoyance at the mess when they reached the top floor. Bedchambers, indeed. This space had been used to store items from the family’s private quarters, including beds, bedclothes, washstands, folded lengths of plaid fabric…Lara couldn’t take it all in.
“The canopy over this bed appears to be silk,” she told Ian, moving closer to get a better view. “And look, the plaid woolens draping the bed look like they have hardly faded through the years. Incredible.”
“Ye can thank the deep darkness,” Ian answered after a pause that made her tear her attention away from the bed to look at him.
He was staring as if he’d seen a ghost. The ghost?
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem…”
“I’m fine,” he grated out, then cleared his throat. “Let’s keep going.”
He didn’t sound fine, but Lara took him at his word. He wasn’t nine years old, and she wasn’t his mother.
Everywhere she looked, Lara saw another chest she itched to open, but Ian suggested waiting until they could see what they were doing. “No sense damaging the locks, or the contents, if we don’t have to,” he told her with a noticeable roll to his r’s.
She had to agree. “Do you think you could run some lights on these upper levels and break through the wall into this space? Then we wouldn’t have to wait until you get the windows opened up.”
“Aye. We’ll have to in order to work up here and not damage anything. Much of this has great historical value, I’d guess.”
That gave her an uncomfortable jolt. Of course. “Oh dear, is there some sort of historical society we should call to go through all of this?”
Ian frowned and swept the flashlight around the room again. “There is someone we can call for help, but all this belongs to you now.”
Lara could have sworn his voice broke at the end of the sentence.
She put a hand on his arm. “You’re not all right. The dust is getting to you. I can hear it in your voice. Let’s go back down and get cleaned up.”
Ian nodded and led her back to the hidden stairs without another word.
He made her follow him down with one hand on his shoulder, something she didn’t mind doing at all. She enjoyed his body heat under her hand, the play and flex of his muscles as he moved. Too soon, they reached the bottom, and Lara had to let go. They collected Rollo and filled him in as they made their way out of the hidden room and down the hallway to the main stairs. On the ground floor, Rollo left them. Ian switched off his flashlight and turned to her.
They both heaved a breath at the same time, then she grinned. “Wow,” she marveled, at a loss for anything more eloquent to say.
Ian nodded and blinked, his expression serious, even solemn. “Wow.”
Were his eyes watering?
“Are you allergic to dust?”
“Nay.” He rubbed at the corner of one eye with the back of his index finger. “I…well, there’s a lot of very old dust up there. So maybe…”
Lara nodded, unconvinced. But why else would his eyes be damp?
Chapter Six
The snow had stopped by the time Lara left to pick up the twins. She took her time, driving carefully on the narrow road into the village, mindful of the stone walls lining both sides and the possibility of slick spots that could cause her to slide into them. Snow dusted the pine branches on either side, part of a commercial woodland intended to be harvested every few decades. She would hate to see the trees cut down, but understood they offered little in the way of food or shelter to local wildlife. Once they were gone, the area would be replanted with native plants and hardwood trees to let a healthy forest develop, much like the woodlands on the Cairn Dubh estate. It was another reason she’d come to love the place and wanted to preserve it. Not a day passed when she and the twins didn’t see birds, rabbits, and occasionally, deer and other animals unfamiliar to her.
But no ghosts. Other than her concern over Ian’s reaction to the dust—if that’s what it had been—she’d been happy with what they’d discovered. There had been no repeat of the strangely chill breeze they’d felt on the lower floor the first time they’d started up a set of stairs in the old wing. That was reassuring. Surely any ghost worth its…whatever…would have objected to their intrusion into the hidden space, right? So she could relax. There was no ghost.
Lara arrived as school let out. The twins were ready to go and chattered about their day all the way home. She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling them about hers. Hearing what she and Ian had found would only encourage them to explore.
Ian and Rollo were outside when they arrived. At first Lara thought they were ready to leave. Then she noticed boxes marked “Industrial Lighting” on the snow-dusted ground by Rollo’s truck. Ian was as good as his word. They’d gotten more lights to run to the upper levels.
The twins escaped from the car before she could order them inside the house. Instead, they made a beeline for Ian and told him—in stereo—about what they’d learned that day. He took it all in stride, squatting down to their level and nodding sagely at each comment they made until she caught up, in time to hear Alex ask Ian to pick them up again—upside down this time.
“Get inside,” she ordered in her sternest voice. “You ha
ve homework to do before supper.”
“Aw, Mom,” Amy complained.
“Another time,” Ian promised. “Your mother wants you to do something else right now.”
Lara could have kissed him for that.
“We want to hear what Ian found in the old wing today,” Alex added.
Ian stood and met Lara’s gaze over the heads of her children. He shook his head slightly, telling her Alex’s comment had been a lucky stab in the dark. Ian hadn’t revealed anything. Nor would he. She nodded and fought not to blush. Despite the treasures they’d found today, the picture that instantly filled her mind was of Ian with his arms around her on the stairs—something she would always associate with the old wing.
“You’ll hear about it later. Go on. Now.”
Amy gave her a mutinous look but went with her brother when he grabbed her hand and tugged.
Lara’s shoulders dropped. One more battle averted.
“Does she give you a hard time?” Ian asked.
Perceptive of him. “She misses her father. I’m told it’ll only get worse in a few years when puberty hits.”
Ian’s lips quirked. He glanced the way the twins had gone. “Alex seems to do a good job as mediator.”
“So far. But don’t believe his innocent expression. He gets in trouble right along with his sister.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rollo had carried the lighting boxes inside while they talked with the twins. Ian took her arm and led her to the door.
She gestured him inside, then closed the door, shutting out the cold, and led the way to the kitchen. “I’ve been thinking about dust.” She gestured toward the hallway to the old wing. “When I thought the twins had chased a mouse…and Scamp…in there, they came out covered in it. I’m afraid all the dust meant they went upstairs.”
“Not necessarily.” Ian shrugged. “The ground level is plenty dirty, especially if they sat on the floor.”
Lara nodded, then brushed her hands together as if wiping off dust. “Yeah, I can see them crawling around, looking for a mythical mouse.”
“Well, no matter, and no harm done.” Ian nodded toward the old wing’s opening. “But it’s wise to keep them out of there. Especially away from the upper floors.”
“No kidding. Now we’ve opened the hidden rooms, I don’t want them to get in there and break anything.” She shuddered, thinking about the damage her two might do to ancient and possibly priceless artifacts.
“Nor do I.” Ian frowned, then his expression cleared. “I’ll let you get on with whatever you need to do. I expect Rollo is waiting for me to help with the lights.”
The twins rocketed into the kitchen just as Ian was about to go.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?” Alex asked.
Her growing boy, always hungry. Lara ruffled his hair, then, for good measure, Amy’s, too.
Ian paused, watching the twins with a hint of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
Lara decided that while he was here, it would be a good time to ask the twins what they’d been up to. “So,” she said, keeping her tone light and non-accusatory, “what were you chasing Friday, you two?”
“Chasing? Us?” Alex put on his best innocent expression, which told her something was decidedly going on.
“You yelled ‘There he is’ before you went charging into the place you’d been told to stay out of. So who was ‘he’ and what makes ‘him’ interesting enough to disobey me—and Ian?”
Alex and Amy exchanged a look. Lara could have sworn Amy looked a little pale. It must be a trick of the lighting.
“Just Scamp,” Amy answered, squaring her shoulders. Another bad sign. “We didn’t want him to get hurt.”
“And I don’t want either of ye to get hurt in there,” Ian countered, his half smile having been replaced by a frown. He joined the inquisition in full Scots brogue and moved to stand next to Lara. “So ye’ll stay out until yer mother and I say ye can go in, or I take ye in. Do ye understand? I mean every word.”
Amy bristled. “You’re not my father. I don’t have to do anything you say.”
“Amy MacLaren! Apologize, right now.”
Amy balked, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re taking his side?”
Lara narrowed her eyes at her rebellious daughter. “When it involves your safety, absolutely. Now apologize. You’re being rude.” How was she going to survive her daughter’s teen years?
Amy looked like she was going to argue some more, then, after a glance at her brother, dropped her gaze and said, “I’m sorry.” But she said it to the room and not directly to Ian.
“Thank you,” Ian replied, then caught Lara’s eye and shrugged.
“Very well,” Lara said, acknowledging Amy’s effort at civility and silently blessing Ian for attempting to lay down the law. “No unauthorized exploration or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your short life.”
Alex had the grace to gulp, but Amy’s chin lifted, ready for battle.
“We didn’t see anything dangerous,” she complained. “Just a couple of big empty rooms.”
Lara noted Alex’s posture stiffen.
Ian cleared his throat.
She nodded permission for him to speak.
“You are not qualified to judge what is dangerous and what is safe, especially in a structure as old as that,” Ian told the twins, his expression stern and his brogue mostly gone. “Ye’d best do as your mother says if you want to see any more of that wing…until the restoration is over and done.”
Lara almost laughed. He knew. So he could read Alex’s body language, too.
Her son’s curiosity was killing him, and the idea of missing any part of what might be found in the old wing would keep him in line. “Is there anything else you two want to tell me about your wanderings where you were told not to go?”
Both shook their heads and dropped their gazes to the floor. Something was not being divulged, but she knew they weren’t going to fess up, not now. And maybe not until she separated them and gave them the full mommy treatment.
“All right. You know the rules. Go finish your homework. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
They took off running.
Ian watched them go with a twinkle in his eye and a slight smile on his lips. “They’re up to something.”
“You noticed.” Lara turned to him and shrugged, trying not to stare at his mouth. He had a whole repertoire of smiles, but she thought she liked the little, subtle ones the best. “Trust me, they’re experts at withstanding interrogation. They won’t crack until they’re ready.”
Ian laughed out loud.
Lara decided then and there she loved his laugh, too. He didn’t laugh often. He smiled, he chuckled, but he rarely laughed. She wanted to keep him around until he did it again.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” She couldn’t believe she’d asked him, but after mentioning it to the twins in front of him, it really was the only polite thing to do. “I can’t promise how it’ll go with the terrible twosome, but if you’re game…”
He cocked his head and studied her for a moment, then his smile widened. “After I give Rollo a hand, I’d love to.”
****
Ian sipped his whisky and stared into the library’s fireplace. The flames were low. In a few minutes, he’d have to get up and add another log. But for now, he was content to enjoy the glow and listen to Lara cajoling her kids to turn out the lights and go to sleep. It all sounded so good. Comforting. Just what this house needed. Dinner had been fun. Despite Amy’s earlier outburst, the twins had been well behaved—even chatty. He’d enjoyed watching Lara interact with them over a meal. And he’d been very aware of the number of times her gaze had strayed to him.
Some private time this evening, if he read her signals correctly, would be even better than dinner had been.
Exploring the old wing with her had turned into more than he’d expected. Even his shock and excitement over what they’d found hadn’t distracted him fr
om liking her hand on his shoulder coming down the stairs. Holding her in his arms after she’d slipped had made him hungry to hold her again. If his luck held, he might get the chance tonight. He set his glass aside and scrubbed his face with both hands.
He worked for her. The job she’d hired him to do was important to her, but even more important to him, especially after what he’d seen today. The last thing he needed to do was scare her into firing him. He’d enjoy getting close to her as fast as he possibly could, but taking it slow was a smarter strategy. With the main house nearly done, she didn’t need him as much as she had three months ago. Someone else could finish the old wing without inconveniencing the family at all.
To get his mind off of what he’d like to do with Lara, he studied the empty wall above the fireplace. It looked just large enough for the painting they’d found. The Macaulay’s Favorite, Fergus, would look right at home up there. Had it once hung there, then been hidden away, along with the other treasures?
He thought back to the strange draft he and Lara had felt on the stairs. If he believed the tales, breaking into the old wing and wandering near the hidden rooms might have disturbed a ghost and freed it from whatever held it in thrall these last two hundred and fifty years. He suspected the twins had seen it Friday evening and chased it back where it came from. The looks on their faces while their mother questioned them had convinced him Scamp was not their quarry. Unless the ghost was real enough to have chased Scamp…possible, but surely the cat would have hissed and spat loud enough for Lara to hear. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially this time of the year, but one conclusion was hard to avoid. Nay, it wasn’t Scamp. It wasn’t a mouse.
All Hallows Eve would be upon them soon. How convenient to have their very own ghost.
The legend wasn’t full of details. Ian wondered when—or if—the ghost would show itself to anyone other than the twins, instead of merely brushing by as he believed it had on the stairs. The more he learned about this place, the more convinced he became that the legend was true.
He picked up his glass and held it up so the firelight glowed in the amber liquid. No specter appeared, outlined in flame and whisky. Just as well. Until one did, there was Lara, a delightful, delectable puzzle. Angus had been gone nearly a year and, though he knew everyone grieved differently, he hoped Lara was ready to move beyond her grief. She’d been thinking about kissing him, there on the stairs, just as he’d been ready to kiss her. But then she’d pulled away and acted so cool, he’d wondered if that heated awareness between them had been all in his imagination.
