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Everything In Its Time

Page 6

by Dee Davis


  "Oh, the usual assortment of men. I don't think anyone seriously. Why? You interested?"

  Jeff answered her with a frown and slowed the car. He turned off the main road onto a narrow lane marked by a sign that read 'Duncreag.' "That's got to be the smallest sign I've ever seen. I know the Scots are a private bunch, but from the size of that sign I'd say they didn't want their guests to find them at all."

  Katherine looked down the small road with anticipation. They had been winding along the River Findhorn, but now were moving up and away from it. The trees began to thin and suddenly, as they rounded a curve, she caught her first sight of Duncreag. She audibly sucked in her breath.

  Jeff stopped the car and they sat in silence. The fortress rose out of what seemed to be solid rock, towering above them. A wall, or what was left of it, circled around and out of sight.

  "Wow." Jeff turned to look at Katherine. "Kitty, are you all right?"

  Katherine slowly wrenched her eyes away. "I'm fine. Really. It just surprised me. It's overwhelming, isn't it?"

  There was no way to put into words what she was feeling. The sight of Duncreag made her feel joyous and terrified all at once. There was a feeling of homecoming, a sense of lightness. But there was also a sense of loss and sadness. It was overwhelming. And there was no way to describe it to Jeff, no way at all.

  Jeff hit the accelerator and the car moved forward again. As they drove into a thick stand of trees, Duncreag disappeared from view. They were circling the great rocky promontory now, gradually drawing closer to the hotel.

  "It must have been a real challenge to get here without a road and a car." Jeff peered out the window as he drove, looking at the steep rocky cliffs on either side.

  "It was. There was a hidden cleft between some rocks. It was the only way in. You wouldn't have even seen it if you didn't know it was there." Katherine stopped. Where had that come from?

  "How did you know that?" He glanced sideways in surprise, the look on his face just short of incredulous.

  "I don't know. Maybe I read it in a guidebook or someone told me the last time I was here. Look, there's the gate tower. Or rather, what's left of it."

  The road narrowed to pass between two broken sections of the wall. On one side, the remnants of what could have been a tower stretched up and over the road. They passed under it, into what had once been a courtyard. There was a sign that said "Car Park," the arrow pointing at the remains of the west wall.

  "I guess we follow the sign." Jeff looked at Katherine, but she hardly noticed. She was absorbed in the building in front of them. It rose four stories high, with a crenellated edge surrounding a high pointed roof.

  "Are those the battlements?" She pointed, looking over at her brother.

  Jeff nodded, his eyes trained on the structure before them, his architect's mind clearly itching to explore.

  The tower was rectangular and obviously old. There was a second wing jutting away to the east. Katherine frowned. It didn't look right somehow, didn't mesh with her memory of the tower. "Jeff, is that a later addition?"

  "I'll say, and not a very good one. It can't be older than, say, seventy-five years or so. It's modern in comparison to the older structure. The tower is definitely medieval."

  "Early fifteenth century." Okay, where had that come from? She wasn't an expert at dating castles. But she knew. She definitely knew. The question was how?

  Jeff's eyebrows rose inquiringly. "I thought I was the architect in this family."

  Katherine smiled ruefully as they pulled into a parking space beside another fragment of wall. There was no way to explain something to Jeff she couldn't explain to herself. Better to change the subject. "How come it's called a tower and not a castle?"

  He looked at her suspiciously to see if she was teasing him, and then apparently decided she genuinely wanted an answer. "It's semantics, really. Tower houses are, in fact, the early Scottish equivalent of a castle. Here in the Highlands there wasn't as much need to defend against a long siege. So all the outer accoutrements, like baileys and outer walls, weren't as necessary. It was much more important to have an impenetrable fortress. So, the tower house came into being. This one, like most of them, is actually a blend of styles, not counting the twentieth-century addition." He cringed. "I'd say that part was remuddling, not remodeling."

  Katherine laughed and they climbed from the car, stretching their legs and enjoying the fresh mountain air.

  She took a deep breath. "Well, this is it. The moment of truth, so to speak. Shall we go in?"

  Jeff grinned, reaching for her hand. "Actually, I can't wait. This place is amazing."

  They walked along a stone pathway between carefully planted beds of flowers and herbs. As they made their way toward the entrance, Katherine scrutinized the eastern wall. There wasn't much left of it, and what there was almost abutted the new wing.

  Without warning the view shifted, and instead of the flowers and cobbled pathway, Katherine saw smoke rising from a wooden building braced against the stone wall. Farther to the right she saw the corner of another wooden structure. It, too, was built flush to the wall. Then just as quickly as they had appeared, the buildings abruptly vanished, and she stood again in the ruined courtyard. She drew in a shaky breath and chided herself for letting her overactive imagination get the best of her again. She had come here to cure herself of these fantasies, not to have more of them.

  "Hey, come over here and look at this."

  Pulling herself out of her reverie, she hurried to follow Jeff to the front of the hotel.

  "I don't think this was original," he said, intently examining the heavy wooden door. "The hinges are new and the wood looks to be only a few years old."

  Katherine stopped beside him. "There wasn't even a door here originally. The entrance was over on the east side, and there was a steep stone staircase climbing to the second floor. The only entrance to this level was from inside the tower. The rooms down here were for storage and a place for more kinsmen to sleep."

  Jeff stopped his examination of the door and instead fixed his intent gaze on Katherine. "Boy, that was some tourist guide you read. I had no idea you had any interest in medieval architecture; I thought your tastes ran more toward medieval society. You know, what they ate and wore and sang, stuff like that."

  Katherine made a face at her brother and playfully tapped him on the arm with a fist. "Well, where they lived is part of all that, isn't it?" She actually had no idea how she knew so much about Duncreag. It seemed to be coming to her from out of nowhere, but she didn't want to tell Jeff that. She shrugged mentally. Tower houses were similar and she had studied them some. Besides, she'd been here before. No telling what information she had picked up then.

  "I feel like there should be a bell pull or something. Do you think we just go in?" Jeff lifted a hesitant hand to the imposing door.

  "I guess so." She placed her hand on the door alongside Jeff's, and together they pushed. The heavy door swung open. Inside it was cool and dark. They stepped in and waited for their eyes to adjust to the interior gloom as the door closed behind them.

  "Well, it's glad I am to see you. I was just telling Mr. Abernathy that perhaps we should be sending someone down to the road to look for you."

  The voice floated merrily out of the shadows. Katherine peered into the room and saw an ancient battered desk in a corner, with a small plump woman behind it. She moved around the desk, fairly bustling with efficiency. She had a sweater draped around her shoulders and wore a serviceable tweed skirt. Her iron gray hair was cut short, but it still curled with unruly abandon all around her face, making her look a bit like an angel in overdrive.

  "You must be the St. Claires. We were thinking you'd be here by noontime. Come in, come in. I'm Agnes Abernathy." Agnes moved closer and grasped Katherine's hands in hers. "Welcome to Duncreag. You'll be Katherine, I'm guessing." Still holding Katherine's hands, she turned toward Jeff. "And you'll no doubt be the brother. Jeffrey, isn't it? Come now into the parlor wi
th you. You'll be wanting a cup of tea."

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Katherine shot a look at Jeff and allowed herself to be shooed down a hallway into a small parlor. The room was cozy, the peat fire burning brightly, and she sank into an overstuffed chair, suddenly grateful to be finished traveling. Jeff followed her, moving to stand by the fireplace.

  "You both just sit and relax. I won't be a moment." With that Mrs. Abernathy bustled out of the room.

  Jeff crossed the parlor and sat down opposite Katherine. "Well, that was something. Do you think she breathes?"

  Katherine laughed. "Probably not. Unless I miss my guess, I'd say we'll be well taken care of while we're here."

  At the sound of clanking china, Katherine's mouth watered and she realized she was hungry. As if on cue, Mrs. Abernathy walked back into the room balancing a tea tray in one hand and a basket in the other. Jeff jumped up to help her.

  "Thank you, young man, but I believe I can manage. If you'll just scoot those magazines to the side of the wee table there, I'll put this down and we can have a nice cuppa." She deftly placed the tray on the table and then followed it with the basket. She pulled up a third chair from the corner by the fireplace and sat down.

  "Well now, how was your trip? Did you drive from Inverness? You're lucky to have had the weather hold. I expect there will be rain before the evening is over."

  She turned expectantly to Jeff, whose mouth was already full of freshly buttered scone. He looked hopefully at Katherine. She smiled and reached for the cup Mrs. Abernathy was handing her.

  "Thanks." She took a cautious sip of the scalding brew. "It was a lovely drive. I'm sorry we're late. We kept stopping along the way to enjoy the scenery."

  Mrs. Abernathy passed a bowl of jam to Jeff. "Oh my, yes. It is pretty up here, especially this time of year. The broom is fading a little now, but still blooming, and the rhododendrons are just hitting their full beauty. Aye, it's lovely along the river, it is. I'm glad you had the time to enjoy it."

  "Mrs. Abernathy?"

  She cocked her head as if to listen better.

  Katherine smiled. "How did you know it was us?"

  "Oh, that was easy. We weren't expecting anyone else this afternoon. And you two look so much alike it made it easy to be certain. You simply had to be the brother and sister we were waiting for."

  Katherine glanced at her brother, still in the throes of scone ecstasy. She supposed they did look alike. They both had thick blond hair, although hers was a deeper gold. And she would admit that their faces were shaped similarly. But her brother was far more handsome. With his brilliant blue eyes and his tall, rugged physique, he turned heads wherever he went.

  She was definitely the less showy of the two. Her eyes were a quiet gray and she tended toward jeans and tee shirts, not the kind of gear that made people stand up and notice her. Still, overall, she guessed people would identify them as siblings.

  Katherine stifled a yawn and settled back into her chair. Jeff and Mrs. Abernathy were deep in conversation. She closed her eyes and let their voices wash over her.

  *****

  "What brings you to Scotland, Jeffrey?"

  "We grew up hearing stories about Duncreag and this area. I wanted to see the real thing." Jeff saw no point in regaling their hostess with Katherine's tall tales. He glanced at his sister. She was curled up in the chair with her eyes closed.

  He turned back to Mrs. Abernathy. "Who were the original owners?" Jeff asked, sipping his tea.

  "Well, let's see. A clan of Mackintoshes built the tower. Not the ones that are over at Moy Hall—they're the heads of Clan Chattan, you know. These Mackintoshes were a lesser clan; I think a third son or something like that. Anyway, they built the tower in the early part of the fifteenth century. But they didn't hold it long. The builder had a son, I believe, but he died and there were no other offspring.

  She picked up her cup. "So the lands were awarded to my family. And Duncreag has been in our hands ever since. I'm a Dow, don't you know, from over Corrievorrie way. When my Jamie and I married, we never dreamed we'd be living here. But life works in funny ways, and all of my kin seem to have died out. So, I'm the last and Duncreag has passed to me. My uncle, who had it before me, turned it into the hotel. And I will say Jamie and I have enjoyed being here, although it's a bit much for the two of us to handle. However, the good Lord didn't bless us with children, so we enjoy all the people coming and going. Makes life less empty, if you know what I mean." Mrs. Abernathy paused to draw a breath and a take a sip of tea.

  Jeff used the break to jump back into the conversation. "Our grandmother was from Dalmigavie originally. She was a Davis."

  Agnes pursed her lips and frowned in concentration. "Seems I do remember a family by that name in Dalmigavie. It's not far from Corrievorrie, you know. Hmm, what was her name?"

  "Mary. Mary Davis Higgens. She left Scotland right after World War Two. My grandfather was a Yank stationed in England. She met him through the war effort and wound up going back to Connecticut with him." Jeff reached for another scone.

  "Yes, a lot of the girls met young men during the war. I wasn't old enough for that. Not that I ever had eyes for anyone but Jamie Abernathy. Where is she now?"

  "I'm afraid she's gone. She died a few years ago."

  "Oh, I'm sorry."

  "No, its okay. It's been awhile now. We miss her, but we're used to her being gone. Aren't we, Kitty?"

  Startled from her light sleep, Katherine blinked, trying to focus on what Jeff was saying. "What? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening."

  "Obviously. I was telling Mrs. Abernathy"—Jeff gave their hostess one of his hundred-watt charm-the-women smiles and then turned back to Katherine—"that we grew up hearing stories about Duncreag from Gram. I was just telling her that we miss her still."

  Katherine nodded. "Very much."

  "And your grandfather? Is he dead, too?"

  "Yes. He died just before I was born. Jeff, you remember him, don't you?"

  "A little." Jeff wiped buttery crumbs from his chin and sat back with a contented sigh. "Mrs. Abernathy, that was delicious."

  "Well, you certainly know how to make a lady feel good. But listen to me carrying on. You must be tired and ready for a wee wash. Sit right here and I'll get keys for you." She jumped to her feet, striding briskly away from them toward the desk in the other room. In minutes she was back, keys in hand.

  "You're both in the tower. Katherine, you're on the second floor, and Jeffrey, you're just above her on the third. You'll remember that we start with a ground floor here. I think you Americans call the ground floor the first, so don't let it confuse you. Anyway, I put you in the room you requested, Katherine." She tilted her head, her face alight with curiosity.

  "I stayed here once before and thought it would be fun to stay in the same room." Katherine looked down at her shoes, rocking back and forth in the chair.

  "You were here at Duncreag? I would think with a head of hair as beautiful as yours I'd remember you. When was it you were here then?"

  "Eight years ago."

  "Ah, that explains it. We took over this place seven years back. You were here when my uncle still ran the place." She looked over to Jeff. "You weren't with her, then?"

  Jeff stood, holding out his hand to take a key. "No, I wish I could have been." He flashed a grin at Katherine. "Seems I usually miss all the excitement. But this time I am here, and I'm really looking forward to a bit of exploring."

  "Ah, then we'll work especially hard to see that you feel welcome." She handed Katherine a key and brushed her hands together as if ending the whole matter. "Now off with you, lambs. Dinner is at half seven in the great hall just above you. I'm afraid we've no lift. The stairs are in the alcove just behind you." She gathered the tea things, and before Katherine could rise from her chair, she was gone.

  "I feel a little like Alice down the rabbit hole. Do you think she was surprised that I had been here before?"

  Jeff swung an arm around his sister. "I do
ubt that anything fazes Mrs. Abernathy. Let's go up and see what the rooms are like. I'll bring our luggage up later."

  "You'd best hurry or no doubt Agnes will have poor Jamie doing it. I can't wait to meet him. I'm picturing John Cleese in Fawlty Towers."

  *****

  Katherine sat on the end of the bed and looked around the room. It was much as she remembered it. The walls were plastered and painted a pale peach. The carpet was nondescript, somewhere between cream and beige. The radiator sported a new coat of paint and the wingback chair was covered in a Laura Ashley print, a slipcover, probably. The bathroom was small but serviceable. The window perpendicular from the bed was set into the wall and contained a small window seat. The seat had a cushion covered in the same fabric as the chair. All in all it was basically as she remembered a comfortable room. And one that bore no resemblance to the room in her dream. She sighed, a knock at the door interrupting her thoughts.

  "Come in."

  Jeff stumbled into the room laden with suitcases. He extracted two from under his arm and deposited them in front of the radiator. "Hey, not bad. Does it look the same?"

  Katherine ran a hand along her braid, then pulled it over her shoulder. "Pretty much. A few touches here and there. But I'd say it's basically the same. How's your room?"

  "Bigger than this. But unfortunately, it comes with the world's shortest bed." He looked down at his long legs and then back at Katherine with a wry grin. "I doubt that I'll fit into it comfortably."

  "Well, it can't be any worse than camping out in that little tent of yours. You'll adjust."

  "Probably. Look, I want to get this stuff stowed away before dinner. So, shall I meet you down there in thirty minutes?"

  "Sure." Katherine sat absently twirling the end of her braid.

  Jeff watched her for a minute. "Hey, are you okay?" he finally asked.

  "Yeah. Why?" She shot him a questioning look.

  "Nothing really. It's just that you always twirl your braid when you're nervous or upset about something."

 

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