Highland Moon #1 (Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance)

by Mac Flynn

"Get up, all of you!" Aili's loud, gruff voice ordered us. "There's work to be done!"

  I sat up, but my roommate groaned and rolled over.

  "Just another few minutes," she pleaded.

  Our door swung open and Aili stood in the doorway with her apron over her front and a stern look on her face. "I won't have any sass from you or anyone else, Mary, now up! We've guests to feed!"

  Mary and I joined the others in the kitchen where Aili had already lit the ovens. The day's chores were begun as we baked a delicate feast of bread, oatmeal, and prepared the spiced mead. I glanced out the windows that faced the courtyard and noted the thick frost that lay over the ground. A chill stuck to the window frames and drifted through the stone walls into my face.

  I sighed. The flowers through which I had tromped the day before were dead.

  Aili came up behind me and laid her hand on my shoulder. "Are you well, Muira?" she asked me.

  I shook myself from my thoughts and smiled at her. "Quite well, thank you."

  She pursed her lips and studied me. "I can understand you missing your mother, but you'll get used to things here."

  "I'm sure I will," I promised.

  Everyone's attention turned to the door that led to the dining hall. The entrance swung open to reveal Lady Annabel and her father, and in front of them was Chamberlain. He stepped inside and swept his hand over the room.

  "This is the kitchen," he told them.

  "I have eyes as well as any man," Lady Annabel quipped as she swept into the kitchen. She sneered at those of us who stood in the room covered in flour and soot from the fires. "How. . .quaint."

  Chamberlain's lips pursed together, but he gestured to the hallway to our rooms. "The door behind you leads to their sleeping quarters and-" Annabel waved her hand at the steward.

  "I quite understand how servants are to be housed. Father has many of his own," she informed Chamberlain.

  "But not so many, my dear," Laird Graham reminded her. "And not a kitchen so large." He turned to Chamberlain and gestured to the ovens. "How many birds are able to fit in these fine ovens?"

  Chamberlain shook his head. "I am afraid I don't know, but Miss Aili will give us an answer."

  Aili stepped forward and bowed to the lady and laird. "Six if they are small and four if it was a good year for them," she informed them.

  Lady Annabel turned her nose up and sniffed. "Laird MacNaughton has larger ovens."

  "But not so many, and the castle, my dear," Graham persisted.

  "If you will follow me I might show you the stables," Chamberlain offered.

  "Yes, a fine idea. Laird Campbell keeps fine horses. You might ride them one day, my dear," Graham offered to his daughter.

  "Perhaps," was her bored response.

  Chamberlain led the pair out the kitchen door and into the courtyard. We all breathed a sigh of relief after their leaving.

  "What a pair!" Mary exclaimed.

  "What a fine and pointy nose!" another chimed in.

  "Hush!" Aili scolded them.

  Mary folded her arms over her chest and smirked at the head cook. "You think the same thing as we do, Aili. The pair of them are very high for their breeches."

  "Aye, I admit I do, but I have enough brains to know when to save those words for when I know if they're to come back through the kitchen or not," Aili pointed out. "Now let's get to work. The Laird Graham will be hungry after their walking about."

  We finished the cooking and set the food on the table before they set down. There was no need to impress upon them for a second time the wealth held by Laird Campbell. Aili led us back into the kitchen, those of us not to serve the lairds and lady, and rubbed her hands clean on her apron.

  "All right. That'll be enough for you all," she told us as she nodded at the door. "You're free for a while yet, but mind you don't leave the castle grounds. There's dishes to be cleaned soon enough."

  Mary stood beside me. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Go out there? Are you daft?"

  "You're to go out there or stay in here, but there's no going through the hall. The lady isn't keen on seeing us, and I won't have the laird's wrath on our heads for her complaints," Aili reminded her.

  The mention of Annabel brought forth a twittering among the women and their opinions of her ways. I slipped away for my cloak and came back for the door. Aili caught me at the rear entrance and lowered her voice to a whisper.

  "Now remember what I said, Muira," she reminded me. "Don't go out of the castle. I can't be playing favorites with you.'

  I smiled and pulled my hood over my head. "I won't go far. I only want a better look of the castle from the courtyard," I assured her.

  She stepped back, smiled and nodded at the door. "Well then, off with you and mind you don't catch cold."

  "I won't," I promised.

  I stepped out into the gloom of frost and walked to the center of the courtyard. Guards stood at attention at either side of the gate, and a few stood huddled together close to the barracks some two dozen yards from me. I stopped and looked up at the grand castle above me. The ancient stones were encased in a thin sheet of white frost that gave the keep a ghostly appearance. My eyes followed the second floor from the entrance hall to the end of the north wing.

  I stood on the wrong end to view the mysterious open windows, but still I dared hope to see something of who resided within those specific stone walls. I was given disappointment. The windows that glared down at me had no secrets to show or reveal. The curtains remained shut, and my curiosity remained dissatisfied.

  A cool breeze blew past me and the chill nipped at my bare face. I shuddered and hurried inside where a warm fire and chores awaited me.

  The remainder of the day passed without incident. My fellow servants and I cleaned the dishes, scrubbed the floors of the dining hall, and cooked the grand food for our laird and his guests. I was grateful not to be given the chore of serving the guests as I shuddered at the thought of another close meeting with Laird Graham and his evil eyes.

  The night swept over our tired bodies and we lay down for sleep, but again I was destined for something more than rest. A noise awoke me at a late hour, and this time I was prepared. I hurried to the door and peeked out. The candlelight streamed down our narrow hall and the sounds of foraging echoed through the passage. I crawled into the hall and to the corner that opened to the kitchen. The candle sat on the main table, and a figure stood hunched over the table. In front of the thief was a large platter of meat from the day's meals.

  The person turned and I covered my mouth to stifle my gasp. It was a man of forty with a wrinkled face. He shuffled rather than walked, and his back was slightly curved as though with great labor. His clothing showed him to be a servant, for they were old but clean.

  He didn't appear to notice me for he took his treasure of food and shuffled out the door to the dining hall. My curiosity, hindered all the long day by my mother's warning, was now too powerful. I followed the man on his nocturnal wanderings.

  CHAPTER 6