Dawn on a Distant Shore (63 page)

"And the earl
ain't got nothin' to add to that pitiful story?"

"We haven't seen
him yet."

"Hmpf."
Curiosity shook her head. "Is that scoundrel Stoker fixed on dying?"

Nathaniel said,
"The Hakim got the bullet out of him. I expect he's tough enough to live
through it."

"Good. Maybe he's
the man to sail us home again."

"I don't know
what's become of the
Jackdaw
," Elizabeth said. "The excisemen may
have burned it."

Curiosity said,
"Hawkeye will show up soon enough. There never was such a man for finding
his way, and Robbie is cut from the same cloth. Don't you forget that,
now."

Elizabeth sent her a
thankful look. Curiosity might know of every tisane and poultice and healing
tea, but she also understood that sometimes the right words were the most
powerful medicine.

She stood over
Nathaniel and touched a hand to his forehead. "Got to get some food into
you," she said. "I hope they bring us something more than that little
bit of jam and bread that Hannah left behind."

Elizabeth took some
pillows from the bed to build a small fortress on the carpet. "I asked
them to send up food," she said, propping Lily there and gesturing for
Daniel so she could sit him opposite his sister. "Perhaps these two will amuse
themselves while we eat."

"Where is
Hannah?" Nathaniel asked.

"She went off
with a little girl by the name of Jennet. Said they was goin' to do some
exploring." Curiosity went to the windows and she stood there, leaning
with one shoulder against the frame. "You see." She pointed.
"There they go now, barefoot the both of them."

Elizabeth joined her
at the window. Beyond the castle the mountains rose up, granite and heather against
a smoke-blue sky. A beautiful day, but in the courtyard below, servants went
about their business. Watermen at the well, a gardener with a muddy apron and a
basket of greenery, a dairymaid arguing with a groom twice her size, jabbing
her finger at him. And Hannah and the girl called Jennet were walking toward
the stables just outside the gate, talking as they went.

"Who is
she?"

"I don' know
exactly, but she's a friendly little thing."

The two of them made a
strange pair--one tall with long blue-black braids; the other quick and small
and white-blond--and still they looked like little girls anywhere on a summer's
day.

"Do you think
it's safe to let her wander off?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes I do,"
Curiosity said firmly. "Let her be a child for once."

There were men working
young horses in the paddocks to the northwest corner of the castle, but what interested
Hannah more was the woodland that began just beyond the stables and ran up to
the top of the mountain called Aidan Rig. There were pines, juniper, birch and
oak, and a stream winding through it all. Somewhere in the distance there was
the sound of waterfalls. Hannah would have liked to see them, but Jennet had other
ideas: she headed straight for a sprawling oak, threaded her skirt through the
waistband of her apron to free her legs, and began to climb, talking to Hannah
over her shoulder as she went.

"This is my
favorite climbin' tree. I fell frae that branch"--she paused to
point--"and broke my arm. But I was much younger then, and Simon was
chasin' me at the time." She hopped from limb to limb until she arrived at
the offending branch, where she settled herself with one arm slung companionably
around the trunk.

"Are ye no'
comin'?"

It had been many
months since Hannah had climbed a tree and she wanted to follow Jennet very
badly, but she cast a look back toward the gates.

"Ye needna fash
yersel'," Jennet said. "We can see intae the courtyard frae here,
should someone come lookin' for ye."

This was encouragement
enough. She launched herself at the tree and in a minute she landed, a little winded,
beside Jennet on a wide, flat branch. She wiggled her toes in the breeze and
sniffed: pine sap and musk roses, woodbine and wild thyme, and no trace of salt
water. The air hummed with bees at work, and she had never heard anything so
musical.

From here
Carryckcastle loomed even larger: too many rooms to count, and servants at work
everywhere. Around them the mountain valley seemed strangely empty and glowing
with color--purple heathers touched with yellow, gorse, scrub evergreens
clinging to rocky slopes. Shadows shifted with the wind.

"Why are there
trees here and not on those other mountains?"

Jennet cocked her head
to one side and shrugged. "Nae man, nae woman," she sang very softly.
"Nae creature wad dare take an axe tae even a single tree o' the wood on Aidan
Rig. The whole ben belongs tae the Guid Neighbors." And then putting her
mouth even closer to Hannah's ear: "A fairy place, ye ken. They come at
dusk, dancin' and singin'. Simon tolt me that the fairy queen hersel' comes at
dawn, lookin' for bairns tae steal awa'."

Hannah considered. She
had heard tales of the fairies from her grandmother, and she was curious, indeed.
But Jennet's unwillingness to speak about them within their hearing was
something to be taken seriously. She nodded.

"Who is
Simon?"

Jennet rubbed her
cheek against the tree trunk. "Simon was ma brither. He died o' the putrid
sair throat." She pulled a leaf to fan herself, and it was exactly the
same color as her eyes. Then she threw out her free arm as if to take in the
whole world.

"Ye can see
forever frae this spot."

"Is this your
hiding place?"

Jennet fluttered her
fingers. "Ach, nae. Every bairn in Carryck has been up this tree, and
their mithers and faithers afore 'em. There's aye better places tae hide in the
castle. Secret passages and hidey-holes and such." She looked over her
shoulder as if she expected to find someone behind her, listening.

Hannah didn't doubt
that the castle would be a good place to explore--it was as big as a village,
after all. But she was glad to be out-of-doors right now and in no hurry to go
back. Jennet seemed to understand this without being told.

She pointed to the
castle and in a prim tone she said: "There's a tower on each corner, do ye
see? Closest tae us is Elphinstone Tower, there. Then comes Forbes Tower, then Campbell,
and on the far corner is Johnstone. The pit is in Campbell Tower, but
Elphinstone is my favorite."

"Why is
that?"

Jennet grinned.
"That would be tellin' when I'd much rather show ye. But no' straightawa'."
She pointed with her chin to the northwest corner, where Hannah could just make
out the beginnings of a kitchen garden, and a few women at work among the
green. "They'll put me tae weedin', should I show my face." The small
nose crinkled. "I dinna like weedin'."

"At home I would
be in the cornfield," Hannah said. "I'm tall enough for the hoe
now." And homesickness blossomed up hot and sour in her mouth. On their
ride here she had seen not a single cornstalk, but at Lake in the Clouds it would
already be standing as high as her brow, with beans winding up to provide shade
for the squash growing below. This year her grandmother and aunt would celebrate
the Three Sisters without her.

"Look," said
Jennet, pointing.

A few horses had
appeared around the southeast corner of the castle, moving at a leisurely pace
toward the open gates. Dogs trotted alongside them.

"The earl's
hounds," Hannah said. "I saw them in Dumfries."

"Aye," said
Jennet, getting ready to swing herself down. "And the wagons will be close
behind."

"Wagons?"

She paused and looked
up so that the light coming through the leaves dappled her face. "Wi' mair
treasure," she said. "Frae the
Isis
."

"Your mother is a
most irrational creature," Elizabeth said to Lily. "Thousands of
miles from home against our will, with no idea of how we will get away from
this place or find your grandfather, no sign of the earl nor any word of
explanation from him, and I can think of nothing but clean clothes and food."

The baby was studying
an ivory elephant, thumping the carpet with it to see what noise it would make,
and then frowning in dissatisfaction. Her brother was more pleased with the
bannock in his fist, which he was using to scrub his face. Neither of them seemed
very concerned with her confession, or with their own grubbiness.

Curiosity had found a
comfortable chair near the hearth. Without opening her eyes, she said,
"Here they come now, a whole army of them, from the sound of it."

Elizabeth bounded up
from the floor before they could knock and wake Nathaniel. She composed her face
and opened the door.

"Mrs. Bonner.
Guid day."

The woman before her
was tiny, with the carriage and figure of a girl, though the lines at the
corners of her eyes and mouth put her at far more than thirty. She was not so
much beautiful as striking, with small, sharply defined features, eyes so light
as to be almost colorless, and blond hair wound around her head in a thick
braid. And at the waist of her simple gown--
black for mourning?--
she
wore the ring of keys that were the mark of her role as housekeeper of
Carryckcastle.

"Mrs. Hope."
Elizabeth smiled, even while her thoughts raced away, recounting all the housekeepers
of her acquaintance at large houses and small throughout England. Every one of
those who came to mind were women of more than fifty, having spent a lifetime
growing into a position of responsibility and authority; few of them had any
beauty left, if they had ever had it at all.

"I am sorry tae
disturb you, Mrs. Bonner, but your things are come from Dumfries. If you would
care tae take dinner in the dining room, the maids will see tae the
unpacking."

She had the composed
manner of a woman who did not need to use her voice to make her wishes known,
or have them followed. Utterly polite and deferential, but Elizabeth could not
read the expression in her eyes.
Because she does not
wish me to
.
Dislike? Disdain? In another lifetime she would have wondered why this woman
should bear her so little goodwill, but it did not matter: they would not be
here long enough for her to make Mrs. Hope a concern.

Elizabeth said,
"Does the earl wait for us at table?"

"The laird sends
his apologies."

Carryck had more
important things to do than to speak to those people he had dragged across an
ocean for his own pleasure. Irritation flooded through her, but Elizabeth
smiled politely.

She said, "My
husband is resting and must not be disturbed. We will take our dinner
here."

"Very well,
madam. I'll put the maids tae work in the dressing room."

"Mrs. Hope."

The housekeeper
paused. "Madam?"

"Where exactly is
the earl engaged?"

A discourteous
question, but it did its work: some unchecked surprise flickered across her
face.

"He is in the
conservatory, madam."

Elizabeth folded her
hands before herself. "Is he? And I was planning to walk in that direction
this afternoon, as the weather is so very fine."

Mrs. Hope inclined her
head. "As you wish, madam. Entirely as you wish."

Fine damask and heavy
silver, porcelain and crystal and solid, hearty food served by footmen who
moved about the room in perfect symmetry. There was marrow broth thick with
barley and peas, roast partridge, red cabbage, runner beans dressed with cream.
Curiosity ladled broth into the babies, and Elizabeth filled Nathaniel's bowl
twice before he fell back into an uneasy sleep.

When the footmen had
been dismissed, Elizabeth and Curiosity ate together while the twins rolled
across the carpet, determined to perfect this new trick.

"Go on
then," said Curiosity when they had eaten as much as they could hold.
"Go find the earl. You won't rest until you talk to the man, anyway. The
little ones are due for a nap, and I'll just take my rest with them. I can keep
an ear out for Nathaniel, 'case he needs anything."

As tired as she was,
Elizabeth knew that Curiosity was right; she was too much on edge to sleep.
"Very well, but I must change first."

"I'd say
so," Curiosity said with something close to her old grin. "A bath
wouldn't be the worst idea, neither."

But in the dressing
room Elizabeth found that the maids had been too thorough in their duties: both
of her other gowns had been spirited away for cleaning. This news she had from
Mally, who had stayed behind to begin the mending.

Elizabeth looked down
at herself. It should not matter to her if the earl found her dowdy and poorly
groomed, as long as he listened to what she had to say to him. And still it was
very hard to go out among strangers in such a sorry state.

Mally was watching her
with a puzzled expression. "The other gowns have been hung, mem." She
pointed with her sewing needle.