The Magic Ring of Brodgar. Кейтлин Эмилия Новак
I see you've already become a true McKenzie,” Duncan said, carefully examining his cousin's outfit.
“Our colors suit you very well,” Alaric said approvingly.
“Thank you, I'm glad to see you both.”
In reality, Megan felt quite awkward in their presence. She very much wished for the lingering tension, left after the family meeting, to finally dissipate so they could interact without strain.
“Really?” Duncan asked with a hint of sarcasm.
Warren intervened before anyone could comment further, “How's it going, bro?” Getting ready for Witch's Night?” he cheerfully said, clapping his brother on the shoulder as a greeting. “We've already introduced our relative to the local traditions and recounted the legends of this region. She's eagerly awaiting the festival!”
Megan inwardly thanked Warren for finding a way out of the awkward situation Duncan had created with his question. It seemed the younger of her cousins was not yet ready to let go of the suspicion she had cast on their family.
“That's wonderful! It’s high time she joined our traditions and celebrations,” Alaric said amiably.
“How are you doing, Megan? Have you settled in? How were your days at Castle Mal?”
“Very eventful! We visited the distillery yesterday, and I got acquainted with the production technology. It was interesting to learn and see all this with my own eyes.”
“I'm happy for you, girl! Duncan, go show our guest around the castle!” the eldest of the clan told his grandson.
“With pleasure! Megan, would you mind if I act as your guide for the next half-hour?” he asked with a wry smile.
“I'll be grateful for that!” the girl responded as friendly as possible.
They walked through a stone arch that divided the hall, leading to a wide semicircular staircase with beautiful stone railings. In the flight between the floors, there was a lancet window framed by carved wooden molding. On the windowsill, designed as a bench, lay two decorative pillows made of dark red velvet. The upper floor extended into a gallery, from which there was a view of the hall situated below. Portraits of the Drummond clan members hung on the walls of the gallery. Megan admired everything around her. When they reached the residential area, Duncan opened one of the doors, saying, “Guest room. If you decide to stay in Castle Raven, you're more than welcome. We would be glad.”
The girl liked what she saw. Walls draped in blue silk; a bedspread on the large double bed with the same hue, standing opposite the entrance; a canopy with golden edging, and high windows on either side of the bed. It was a complete surprise to see such a cozy, warm chamber after the somewhat gloomy nature of the lower floor.
“Practically all the rooms have been modified and improved. The last representative of the clan wanted them all to match the era's style. This bedroom was intended for the future mistress of the castle,” the cousin explained.
“For Margaret?! Warren told me this tragic tale yesterday,” Megan exclaimed with passion mixed with surprise.
“Yes, for her. And this inner door,” Duncan swung it open for his companion, “leads to the lord's bedchamber. Voilà!” he sang cheerfully.
The girl eagerly entered. The room was slightly larger than the neighboring one. Dark blue tones, gold trim, more heavy grand furniture, a serious style – everything indicated that a man lived here. Above the headboard of the bed hung the clan's coat of arms.
“Does anyone live here?”
“Nope. Our ancestors didn't touch it for a long time, hoping that Drummond would return. Time passed, generations changed, but it remained uninhabited. There are many other comfortable bedrooms in the house, so let this one remain for the spirit of the lost lord,” Duncan said theatrically, with an angelic smile, amusing Megan greatly.
“Are there really ghosts in here?” she asked skeptically.
"Are you afraid of them? Then come stay with us! Let's see if the spirit of Drummond comes to meet you if you take his former fiancée's apartment. Then you can tell us what he reveals to you,” Duncan joked, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease Megan.
“Not funny! Now I definitely won’t stay with you. You can ask him everything you want to know yourself, and then tell me,” she retorted cheerfully.
“What a coward! I'm joking, of course, there are no spirits here and there never have been. Otherwise, we would have met them long ago. Let's move on, otherwise, while you're looking around here, I'll miss dinner. And that I definitely won't forgive!” the young man smiled.
They went to one of the castle towers and found themselves in a large library. Megan was surrounded by tall shelves filled with a rich collection of books.
“What beauty! I love books so much! I could spend days here without leaving,” she said dreamily. The girl ran her hand over the spines, enjoying the opportunity to touch history. The library housed editions dating back to the 18th century and later. Her gaze quickly scanned the long row of unusual bindings and settled on the legends and tales of Scotland. I mustn't lose sight of these, she thought. I'd like to look at these first.
“What's there?” she pointed to a small door built into one of the bookshelves. It was clear that it led somewhere.
“Something like a storeroom. Paintings, portraits, personal belongings of the Drummonds. No one has cleaned it for about a hundred years. Once, as a child, I wanted to hide there but I got caught in a web, and a spider fell on my face. I ran out of there screaming and never again felt the urge to enter that dreadful place.”
“A spider isn't as scary as a ghost."
“To each their own! I've never encountered ghosts. But spiders are absolutely real and very unpleasant creatures," Duncan said with slight disgust.
In a good mood, with playful comments, Duncan showed Megan several more rooms, and then they went into the dining hall where they were expected.
During dinner, they discussed many different topics, and the girl’s relatives took a keen interest in her London life. Everyone there seemed to have decided not to bring up the unpleasant conversation from the day of the meeting. They all acted as if nothing had happened, although Megan was sure that such things are hard to forget.
“Megan, allow me to ask you a provocative question!” exclaimed Alaric, smiling warmly, “Have you started to miss London yet?”
“Indeed, a provocative question!” Megan smiled in response. “In the last few days, I've been discovering a new world. Breathtaking castles! Incredible heather fields! The mystique and history of my family – all of it truly fascinates and attracts me. I don't remember London making such an impression on me. But I'll admit, I do miss its noise and the fast pace of life.”
“I see,” the elderly man said thoughtfully, cutting a piece of venison.
Dinner went smoothly and comfortably, and afterward, everyone gathered in the hall by the fireplace.
“Having a glass of good whiskey after dinner is one of our family traditions,” Alaric said with a satisfied smile.
“Warren introduced me to this tradition at Castle Mal yesterday,” Megan responded. “He and Glenn told me a lot of interesting things. Though, I'm very impressionable, and it led me to have nightmares all night.”
“I warned you, since you take everything to heart, you'd be scared at night! But your curiosity overcame your fear,” Warren joined in.
“Yes, that's true. I dreamt about Margaret and Mary, the crypt, my grandfather…”
“Well, now that I showed you Margaret's and the lost lord's rooms, you won't sleep tonight either!” Duncan said, laughing merrily.
“No, it's all good. I truly found it very fascinating. They had such a sad story,” Megan said thoughtfully.
“That’s life. It's not the first nor the last sad love story in the world,” concluded Alaric.
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