Miles away Ramsay Kinnaird stood before his large stone fireplace, downing yet another goblet of whisky, when his personal messenger entered the room.
“I’m afraid tis true, sir. Blaire MacChristy moved into Conall castle this very evening, and they are to be married within a fortnight. It was arranged between the laird’s father and Donal MacChristy himself. From what I hear, neither Eoin nor Blaire are looking forward to the marriage.”
“I doona give a damn about their feelings toward their marriage!” roared Ramsay, slurring his words as he continued. “How dare Alasdair make such an arrangement? Donal MacChristy is laird over the smallest keep in all of Scotland, while my territory is by far the largest. With both Donal and myself having daughters of the same age, it is an insult of the deepest accord that Alasdair would pass over arranging a marriage with my daughter for Blaire MacChristy.”
“I . . . I believe, sir, that the arrangement was made so that Alasdair could ensure protection for his good friend. As ye know, the MacChristys have been facing difficult times for years. Their land is too scarce and their people too poor to provide adequate protection should their territory be in danger. I do not believe Alasdair meant any disrespect to ye, sir.”
“I know perfectly well what Alasdair’s intentions were when he made the arrangement, you damn fool!” He threw the metal goblet into the flames, sloshing the contents of his cup, forcing the flames to heighten and roar at the alcohol’s touch.
“I . . . my apologies, sir.” The man backed up a few steps, fearing that the laird’s temper was about to grow completely out of control. Far too many servants had disappeared simply because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the laird flew into one of his violent rages.
“This will not stand, I can promise ye that. This marriage will provide no protection for the MacChristy clan, for I will wipe out all of the Conalls. Afterward, it will only be a matter of time before the MacChristys wither and die of their own accord. Once his precious Blaire is murdered before she is comfortably settled in her new home, the old laird will be so heartbroken, he will care for his territory even less than he does now.” Storming from the room, Ramsay paused briefly, grabbing his messenger by the throat. “If ye so much as breathe a word of my intentions to anyone, I will wipe ye and yer entire family from the face of this earth.”
Shoving the servant to the ground, Ramsay Kinnaird flew out of the room, his murderous plan taking shape as he went.
Chapter 5
Scotland – Present Day
As usual, everything took twice as long as planned. Despite the fact that our plane had landed early that morning, it was close to six PM. Dusk was beginning to set in as we loaded the documents from the museum into the small compact rental and headed out of the city.
Several hours later, hungry and exhausted, we finally spotted the small inn that Mom had remembered. I parked in front of the charming two-story home and flipped on the interior lights of the cramped car as I pulled out a map.
“What do you think? Are we close enough to the ruins to stop for the night?”
Yawning, Mom stretched and nodded.
“Yes. We’re only about thirty minutes away, and I’ve always wanted to try this place out. It looks great, doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does. Let’s go. I’m totally exhausted.”
We unloaded our suitcases and made our way to the inn’s entrance. Stepping inside the old wooden door, I smiled as the warmth of the fireplace to the left washed over me, melting away the icy feeling in my fingers and face.
I was loosening my scarf and unbuttoning my jacket when I heard a voice coming from the top of the stairs.
“Jerry! I think there’s someone here. Go see if they will be wanting a room and, for God’s sake, ask them if they want something to eat.”
My stomach growled immediately at the mention of food. I hadn’t eaten anything since the plane, and the one bite I’d had of the soggy powdered eggs hadn’t held me for long. I reached down to pat my stomach, hoping it would stop growling at my request, just as the most miserable-looking man I’d ever seen walked our way from what appeared to be the kitchen.
Hunkered over, with a head covered in gray hair, he was far too skinny. He had the most severe-looking face, with a long, pointed nose and a chin that jutted far outward. I couldn’t help but think that he more than slightly resembled Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Well, hello lassies,” the man said with a large smile. “The two of ye look like ye’re about to freeze to death, shivering in the doorway. Please, come in and I’ll get ye something warm to eat, as I assume ye’ll be staying the night.” He quickly patted me on the shoulder and then walked back toward the kitchen, waving his hand so that we would follow.
I was certain my jaw visibly dropped, and it took me a few good seconds before I could follow. I glanced at my mother, who was staring back at me with a look of pure satisfaction.