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H
ector had agreed to go to Cameron Castle and try to get it working again. Millie was most concerned that the old ones — primarily Clint, Winston, Ethel and a few others who had worked at her grandmother's place — had means to keep on surviving. They'd worked at the castle all their lives and now, with the deaths of her grandmother and aunt, Millie felt a responsibility to them. Plus, they were part of her childhood memories.
When Millie was a child, Clint and Winston were young men. There was always plenty of work at hand, but they would still take time to hook up the pony cart for the youngsters, those being Millie and children of the staff. Millie would follow them around as they went about their chores. She liked visiting her grandmother, grandfather and aunt because she had such freedom there unlike at her father's castle in England, where she had to always be a Lady and never was allowed to associate with the local children.
Coming around behind the castle, Hector walked his horse to the stable. Normally he would have been met by a stable hand. But since the murders, most of the staff had fled in fear of becoming the next victim. He observed that there was water and fresh oats at each stall, so apparently Clint and Winston were still around.
A voice called out to him from the front of the stable. "Hello. And who might ye be?"
The old man had seen the horse and rider approaching and made it his business to find out why the rider was stopping here. Since the deaths of their mistresses, Clint and Winston were wary of everyone. They had told Lady Millie they'd watch out for the place, and they would.
Hector stepped forward and offered his hand to the old gentleman. "Good morning to ye, sir. I'm Hector MacKinnon, brother to the two MacKinnons ye already met. They bought sheep from Mistress Cameron a couple of years ago. And most recently, they were escorting Lady Millie and her bairn to our place in the Highlands. Remember? I believe ye must be Clint. Millie told me I'd find ye here."
The oldster studied the young man's face for a moment. "Yeah, ye do have that look about ye. Yer all different, but there's a familiar look ye all have. Yep, I remember fairly well, considering me age. Lady Millie told us she'd be coming back, but we ain't seen her yet. Is she all right then?"
"Yes sir. She's never been better. She and her new bairn are settled in at our lodge. And she and Jack, one of my brothers, are about to be married."
"Bless me, but weren't she already married to that there Lord feller, the one that conked me on the head and was trying to catch her?"
"It seems Lord Warwick met an untimely end, according to Alex, my older brother. But Millie was in danger, as were the others traveling with her, so it didn't seem there was much choice but to take care of him."
"Then that's the best news ye coulda brought me. That Lord fellow was a right dreadful man. Our Lady Millie's safe and that's a relief. Do ye think she's still planning to come back? We're at a loss as to what we should be doing, ye ken?"
"Aye, that's why I'm here. Millie asked me to get with you and another fellow, Winston was it? She wants to make sure you, Winston, and any others who have been with the family for years are taken care of. And she wants the place to be kept in good repair. She wanted to make sure you understood the place should be run the way her grandmother and Aunt Moira had run it."
"Then we'll be sure to do that. As it is, though, we done run out of funds. Me and Winston have managed to keep the horses fed and the chickens looked after but we've nothing to work with now. Hay needs to be cut for the horses, and the sheep, what few we still have, need to be readied for shearing, and the missus' gardens are done gone to weeds. She would be most upset about that, ye ken? She practically fed half the village with her vegetables and such."
"What do ye mean, fed half the village?"
"Ah, but then ye wouldn't know about that, of course. Well, ye see, the families have difficulty just feeding their wee ones, 'specially now that so many of the men died at Culloden. The women were left without a man to help, so Mistress Cameron had her gardeners, and the cook, my Ethel, always preparing food to be taken to the folk in the village. Me and Winston would load it on the cart and go to the main street. That food would be gone in a matter of minutes. It was a real help to them. Now, I don't know what's become of 'em."
"I see. Then I'd better put my thinking cap on and see what we need to do. I'll need yer help, and Winston's, too. Ye think we can count on him?"
"Aye. He's as much a part of this place as I am. He ain't going nowhere."
"Don't worry, we'll find funds for ye to operate with. Millie has some of her own and I've been instructed to use them where they can serve a good purpose. Looks to me like we got work to do."
"Aye, lad. I'll find Winston and we'll follow your lead. We might be a little long in the tooth, ye ken, but we still got our marbles and ain't much we can't do."
The old man walked away feeling lighter than his years should allow. Speaking aloud, perhaps to himself, he said, “Yes sir, our Lady Millie didn't forget us.”
Hector thought to create an office of sorts in the castle, a place where he could begin to create a list of things that needed to be done. Just looking around, it didn't look as if anyone had entered the building since Millie, Caitlin, and his brothers had left here a few months ago. In fact, no one had ventured upstairs since the murders had taken place.
He walked about taking in his surroundings. Yes, Jack had told it right. This was quite an exquisite place. There was fine furniture in every room, hand-woven rugs, what Mam would have called "real china," and a number of original paintings hanging along the walls. Perhaps they were portraits of ancestors. Certainly, none of the women were as beautiful as Millie. He still wondered how his oaf of a brother had managed to charm that beautiful woman. As for himself, he hadn't found any woman he thought interesting enough to get involved with, nor had he found any he was inclined to spend time with either. Well, maybe Mam was right about things happening when they were supposed to.
Thinking to set up shop in a corner of the great room where the fireplace could provide warmth, he found a small table and chair, more like a lady's desk he thought. And it probably had been. There were letters strewn on the top so he stacked them neatly and brought out his own papers, which were just a few ledgers and empty pages for making notes. He had a mind that thrived on organization and a head for figures. He'd make a list of the stock, the household furnishings, figure out the acreage, etc., until he had a clear picture of what Millie had here. Perhaps he'd find papers in the castle that might help him.
Before tackling his new tasks, however, he started up the stairs to get an idea of how many rooms were on the second floor. Millie had told him there were a number of bedrooms, but she didn't remember how many. He stood at the top of the stairs scanning the upper level. It was amazing — the floor shone so brightly it looked as if it someone had cleaned it today. But there were no cleaning girls at the moment so he didn't think that could be right. The hallway at the top of the stairs was wide and a magnificent, colorful Persian rug ran the length of it. On either side of the hallway there were four doors. All of them were closed.
Just as he was about to continue on, he paused. What was that? A rattling noise? He was sure he had heard something. But standing there for another moment he heard nothing more. Still, he was sure he had not imagined that sound. Maybe just vermin.
Then, when he had convinced himself it was nothing more than rats, he heard another sound — something scraping — coming from the end of the hallway.
Now, I know I heard that.
The hair on the back of his neck stood to attention and he held his breath. Whoever had killed Millie's grandmother and aunt was still on the loose. Not one person had come forth with information that might help the constable find the killer or killers. These days the villagers kept close to home and the women never went anywhere without an escort.
He halted, listening closely. He pulled out his pistol and crept closer to the first door on the left. He pushed gently at the door and it slowly opened. He peeked in holding his pistol carefully. This would have been the mistress' bedroom. Or some woman's for certain. Hand-tatted lace bed linens covered the four-poster bed, and the room still smelled like a woman—something of heather or other flowers. Female. Empty.
He closed the door and slowly walked farther along the hallway, still listening. He heard a muffled noise, muted, and followed it to the last door on the right. He quietly pushed on the door, but it didn't open. He pushed a little harder but it still didn't budge. His heart was racing, but holding his pistol with both hands he lifted his booted foot and kicked the door with all his strength. The door quickly sprang open, causing him to practically fall into the room.
No matter what he had thought to find, he was not prepared for this sight. In the middle of the room gathered on a small woven rug sat three children. The oldest was perhaps seven and the other two even younger. Hector didn't have much experience with children, so guessing their ages was not easy.
"Holy Jesus, what are ye bairns doing in here?"
He wasn't sure who was the most surprised and frightened, him or the children. He was without words. What did you say to three small children sitting in a castle bedroom, munching on what looked like some kind of old oat cakes.
"We never meant to steal the cakes, mister, but we be awful hungry, ye ken?"
The oldest child, a young lad, stood and faced him, trying his best to stand in front of the younger ones — almost a gesture of protection. His eyes never left Hector's gun and his voice quivered when he spoke. Following the lad's eyes, Hector quickly stuck the pistol in the rear of his kilt. He figured he'd probably scared the living daylights out of the lad.
"No, no. That's all right. Ye eat all the cakes ye want."
He looked about, thinking surely there must be someone here to help him make sense of this situation. This was a most unexpected development. "What are ye doing here? Who are ye?"
The lad's face lost color. He was not sure how to answer the gentleman. If he told the truth, the man may take a limb to his hide. At this moment, the demands of his stomach were overtaking his ability to use his brain, so he came out with the truth.
"We got no home anymore. Our Da didn't come back from the fighting — the Culloden. And our landlord told our Mam we would have to leave. Said he had to have payin' tenants. But our Mam was sick — and then she went to sleep. And she wouldn't wake up, no matter how much we called to her. After a week our food was gone too, and we snuck in here. It was cold outside and we come up the stairs. There was some cakes in the kitchen so we took some. We didn't take all of them, though."
Hector's brain was finally functioning again. Millie had sent him to take care of business, but no one had ever dreamed about this state of affairs.
"Don't fret now, lad. No one's going to hurt any of ye. Just sit here until I can sort this out. It'll all work out, lad. Stay here until I come for ye. Don't leave. I'll help all of ye."
Hector found Clint and explained what he had discovered upstairs.
"By the rood! Ye mean they just camped out in our castle here? Where's they Mam and Da?"
Hector told the story as best he could and the old one just shook his head. He'd seen a lot in his day, but this took the cake.
"Bairns hiding in the castle right under me nose? Since Lady Millie left we hadn't seen any reason to go upstairs. Whatever cakes those wee ones found had to be several months old now. They must be like stone. But then, I guess anything is better than nothing. I'll see about getting them some vittles. I'll tell Ethel. She'll take care of that problem. Yep. I'll fetch Ethel. She'll know what to do with the wee ones. She'll feed them for sure."
"I thought she was at the inn, cooking?"
"Aye. But she'll be on home here shortly. She always has enough food around for an army. Don't even worry 'bout that." He removed his old tattered tam, scratched his sparsely sprigged head, and then looked again at Hector.
"Now that I think for a second, I know one who would know more what to do with them bairns than Ethel. Ethel never had a bairn, ye ken? But Dorothea, well she's spent her entire life looking out for bairns. She was nursemaid to our Lady Millie. She'd be the one we need to help us."
"Then you get on about finding her and I'll try to figure out what else we need to do."
Hector, Dorothea, Clint and Winston were quite a team and in short order they had sorted out what had to be done. Hector had to get home for the festivities, but he assured them he and Millie would return in just a matter of days. Just before he left, he remembered Millie's instruction.
"Oh, Dorothea. I've brought a letter from Millie. She wanted to make sure I didn't forget to give it to you." He handed the letter to the small woman, who gently took it from his hands.
"Thank you. I'll take it home and read it carefully."
Dorothea was more than excited to get a letter from Millie. The bond they shared would never be broken. She had cared for Millie from the day the child was born, her entire life, until Lord Warwick had sent her away just a few years ago. But when Millie had shown up at the estate fleeing her husband, Dorothea had come to her. Perhaps they could manage to see each other occasionally now. She tucked the letter in her coat pocket and looked forward to reading it, word for word, at home.