Dawn on a Distant Shore
Page 139
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."
"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."
