I shuffled across the floor, careful of fallen rocks and other debris that might lay in my path, and was guided only by the wall on my left. I tried to touch it only when necessary, wary of what I might find crawling across or growing on its surface. From the rank stench of damp and earth I suspected the space was overgrown with moss and mold. Halfway down the passage, the light passing through the crumbled section of the wall offered enough light for me to see the doorway into the staircase on my left, tucked into the stone separating the central hall block from another large chamber. The darkness inside yawned blacker than even the entrance passage, and I inhaled several shallow breaths, trying to muster the courage to enter.
Deciding it would be better to have it over and done with, I began to climb at a fairly rapid pace, praying that I would not encounter too much debris littering my path. The stone steps were worn smooth and dipped at the center from the weight of centuries of people treading up and down them. At the back of my mind, I recalled Will telling me how a staircase had crumbled beneath one of the footmen, but I blocked it from my mind, refusing to think on it. The stairs opened briefly into a room, whose broken and exposed windows afforded me a glimpse into the dusty chamber. It was empty, save for a few pieces of splintered and discarded furniture, and a piece of tattered cloth lying against the wall that I could have sworn moved.
Not eager to discover that I was correct, I turned and hurried up the next section of stairs ahead of me, which continued to spiral around the outside of the building, so that the door to the chamber above opened at a spot on the south side of the castle rather than the east. This room was very similar, save for an irregular, two-foot hole in the stone on the west-facing wall. I did not fail to note the staircase continued to climb around over this shoddy section of masonry, and prayed the surrounding stones were still strong enough to support the walls and staircase.
I passed the next floor’s chamber without peeking inside and walked straight into a tightly wound spiral staircase that was better lit than the others, for it opened onto the roof. I shivered from the wind being directed down the shaft and picked up my pace, even though my legs protested and I was panting from the exertion. The stairs in older castles had certainly not been built for the convenience of ladies in long, heavy dresses. More than once, I had misjudged the height of a step and almost fallen forward onto my knees on the dust-shrouded stone.
I gasped for breath as I stepped out onto the battlements. The wind whipped furiously at my cloak and the skirts of my Prussian blue dress, swirling them around my legs, and tugged at the pins in my hair. I glanced cautiously to the left, seeing the crumbled section of the roof that had fallen in on the old nursery. My stomach pitched and I turned away, deciding it would be best to avoid even looking at that portion of the roof.
Ahead and to the right of me, Will still perched on the edge of the battlements. His back was to me and he had not even flicked a glance over his shoulder to indicate he knew that I was there. I stepped out onto the stone roof between us, saying a silent prayer that it would hold beneath my weight. It did. So I continued forward, taking each step with care so as not to alarm Will, in case he truly didn’t know I was behind him or I upset the fragile masonry.
As I approached a gap in the battlements, I could not withhold a tiny gasp. The view was magnificent. Ahead of us the Firth of Forth stretched out like a deep blue blanket, rippling and undulating in the blustery weather. Whitecaps formed farther out, crashing into the shores of Cramond Island and another island to the left toward the coast of Fife. I thought I could see yet another isle far, far in the distance, possibly even the infamous Inchkeith Island, but the fading light made it hazy and indistinct. The north and south shores stretched out like the arms of a lover opening for an embrace, the bright colors of their autumn forests now shrouded by encroaching shadows.
I looked to Will to see that he was now leaning more heavily on the merlon to his right, whether from weariness or inclination. The crenel he was seated on was wide enough for two people to sit side by side, but I did not dare attempt the maneuver, particularly in heavy skirts and a cloak. I was not certain I could have managed it in any case—the ledge was at the height of my bosom—or that I wished to perch myself so precariously. My nerves were already stretched taut at the sight of Will doing so. If he shifted forward but a few inches he would tumble to his death. I still wasn’t sure that wasn’t his ultimate goal, so I bridged the few remaining feet between us with extra caution.
When finally I stood next to him, I lifted my hands to rest them on the crenel and studied him out of the corner of my eye. There had still been no discernible reaction to my presence, but I knew he was aware of me. It was there in the weary manner he seemed to accept everything lately, in the way his breathing deepened, whether in relief or resignation.