mercy, and to ask for a second chance.”
The schoolmaster’s words rang false and the expression in his eyes sealed his fate. Lachlan had been too distracted with matters of the Council to evaluate properly the man who was to teach his brother. It had taken die observations of an outsider to see through the thin veil Bartholomew had drawn over himself. This was not an honorable man, but Una had told him that Bartholomew was the father of Molly’s babe and for her sake, he would reconsider.
He tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair.
“I shall not speak against you if you seek employment in Inverness or any of the outlying villages. However, you will leave tonight, or you will not leave at all.”
Chapter 4
Amber snuggled deeper tinder the cover. The bed felt lumpier and noisier than she had remembered. She’d tell Aunt Dora about it when she went down for breakfast. She tried to hold onto the dream, but the threads of it were already fading. She stretched. It had something to do with Urquhart and a gorgeous man in a kilt who wanted to marry her… and something more.
She yawned, opened her eyes and looked around. Stark, gray stone walls greeted her. Amber sat up and shivered. Terrific, it hadn’t been a dream. She tried to steady her breathing and took a deep gulp of cold air. It didn’t help. Okay, so she was stuck here until she could find a way back home and she’d proved earlier this evening that she shouldn’t wander around the castle. Particularly since she seemed always to be running into Lachlan. She was still recovering from the last encounter. Through the whole experience she’d had the overwhelming urge to pretend to stumble over loose pebbles and fall into his arms. Amber would be willing to bet a month’s salary that his muscles were rock solid.
She stared out the window. It was the middle of the night. Aunt Dora had always used hot milk and nutmeg as a cure for sleeplessness, restlessness, broken hearts, and just about anything else you could think of. Amber usually preferred a book and dark chocolate. Either way she was wide awake. He stomach growled. Okay, so she was awake and hungry. If she was going to deal with this situation, she needed sleep, and food. And not necessarily in that order.
She slid out of bed and winced as her feet hit the floor. There was only a thin layer of rushes by the bed. The floor was ice-cold. She tossed a blanket down to stand on and reached for the clothes piled on a chair nearby. For once she was glad she had numerous layers to put on; at least she’d be warm. She started with the assortment of undergarments, eliminating the ones that required lacing in the back. She pulled the long-sleeved wool dress over her head and looked at the heavy embroidered tunic. Forget it. She’d just have to deal with whatever fashion police were up in the middle of the night.
After slipping on a pair of soft leather shoes, Amber picked up the candle. Before opening the door she glanced in the direction of the adjoining room. Candles lit the interior and their light appeared to focus on the door she’d used earlier. The wooden bolt was back in place and a larger, fiercer-looking lock secured it. The message was obvious. She didn’t need the castle to fall on her to get the idea.
Torches flickered in the long corridor outside the room. Portraits of somber men and women lined the walls, like a gallery at a museum. She paused when she reached a dead end. To her left ran another hallway and to her right she could see a stone staircase.
The comforting smells of baking floated through the air. It was the back entrance to the kitchen that Molly had told her about. Una must have started cooking early. Amber picked up her skirts and walked casually down the stairs. She heard a squeaking sound. Rats. She shuddered and made a mental note never to come down this passageway again.
At the bottom of the stairs she pushed open the door. Dried herbs and dusters of garlic hung from a
The schoolmaster’s words rang false and the expression in his eyes sealed his fate. Lachlan had been too distracted with matters of the Council to evaluate properly the man who was to teach his brother. It had taken die observations of an outsider to see through the thin veil Bartholomew had drawn over himself. This was not an honorable man, but Una had told him that Bartholomew was the father of Molly’s babe and for her sake, he would reconsider.
He tapped his fingers on the armrest of the chair.
“I shall not speak against you if you seek employment in Inverness or any of the outlying villages. However, you will leave tonight, or you will not leave at all.”
Chapter 4
Amber snuggled deeper tinder the cover. The bed felt lumpier and noisier than she had remembered. She’d tell Aunt Dora about it when she went down for breakfast. She tried to hold onto the dream, but the threads of it were already fading. She stretched. It had something to do with Urquhart and a gorgeous man in a kilt who wanted to marry her… and something more.
She yawned, opened her eyes and looked around. Stark, gray stone walls greeted her. Amber sat up and shivered. Terrific, it hadn’t been a dream. She tried to steady her breathing and took a deep gulp of cold air. It didn’t help. Okay, so she was stuck here until she could find a way back home and she’d proved earlier this evening that she shouldn’t wander around the castle. Particularly since she seemed always to be running into Lachlan. She was still recovering from the last encounter. Through the whole experience she’d had the overwhelming urge to pretend to stumble over loose pebbles and fall into his arms. Amber would be willing to bet a month’s salary that his muscles were rock solid.
She stared out the window. It was the middle of the night. Aunt Dora had always used hot milk and nutmeg as a cure for sleeplessness, restlessness, broken hearts, and just about anything else you could think of. Amber usually preferred a book and dark chocolate. Either way she was wide awake. He stomach growled. Okay, so she was awake and hungry. If she was going to deal with this situation, she needed sleep, and food. And not necessarily in that order.
She slid out of bed and winced as her feet hit the floor. There was only a thin layer of rushes by the bed. The floor was ice-cold. She tossed a blanket down to stand on and reached for the clothes piled on a chair nearby. For once she was glad she had numerous layers to put on; at least she’d be warm. She started with the assortment of undergarments, eliminating the ones that required lacing in the back. She pulled the long-sleeved wool dress over her head and looked at the heavy embroidered tunic. Forget it. She’d just have to deal with whatever fashion police were up in the middle of the night.
After slipping on a pair of soft leather shoes, Amber picked up the candle. Before opening the door she glanced in the direction of the adjoining room. Candles lit the interior and their light appeared to focus on the door she’d used earlier. The wooden bolt was back in place and a larger, fiercer-looking lock secured it. The message was obvious. She didn’t need the castle to fall on her to get the idea.
Torches flickered in the long corridor outside the room. Portraits of somber men and women lined the walls, like a gallery at a museum. She paused when she reached a dead end. To her left ran another hallway and to her right she could see a stone staircase.
The comforting smells of baking floated through the air. It was the back entrance to the kitchen that Molly had told her about. Una must have started cooking early. Amber picked up her skirts and walked casually down the stairs. She heard a squeaking sound. Rats. She shuddered and made a mental note never to come down this passageway again.
At the bottom of the stairs she pushed open the door. Dried herbs and dusters of garlic hung from a
Similar Books
