Page 28 of Wild Scottish Beauty

I arrived for a late breakfast to find Hilda, Archie, and Sophie drinking their tea in the lounge by the fire, while the dogs sprawled on their beds. The two jumped up when I arrived, Sir Buster with a growl, and Lady Lola with a lolling grin, and I squatted to pet them.

“Good morning,” Hilda smiled at me and rose, moving to a door. “Can I get you a tea or coffee then? Some eggs? Toast? Scone?”

“Coffee would be great. A scone as well, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Nae bother, I’ll just be a moment.”

“How’d you sleep?” Sophie smiled at me, and I took a seat in a soft lounge chair with a side table next to it. This room was comforting in the way of rooms that are well used and well loved. A bit of a mix of design, with the tartan chairs pulled close by the fire, a few rugs thrown over the faded carpet, and high ceilings with stunning crown molding. A mix of paintings and photos lined the walls, creating a gallery wall effect that so many people tried to replicate in their homes, but few managed to do well. Here, I could tell it was the real thing, with each painting or piece of art hung at random points through the years to create an eclectic and charming atmosphere.

“Great until the screaming started.”

“Oh dear.” The coffee mug on Hilda’s tray wobbled slightly as she came through the door and caught my words.

Sophie slid a look to Archie, and I followed her gaze, wondering if the older man would be straight with me. He had the look of it, a man who didn’t seem to mince words, but still—you never knew what someone would be hiding.

Or protecting.

“That was the Kelpies,” Archie said, holding a feather into the air and turning it this way and that, as though he had not a care in the world.

“I’m going to need more of an explanation than that,” I said, nodding my thanks to Hilda as she placed the tray on the side table near my chair. “Starting with what the hell a Kelpie is.”

“Mythological water horse. Except not a myth, because you heard it yourself.”

I blinked at Archie and when no more was forthcoming, I turned to Sophie, a plea on my face.

“Right, so, I guess we’ll just get into it then?” Sophie gave me one of those smiles that people used when they had to break bad news to you, and my shoulders tensed.

“This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“Depends on what you’re made of,” Archie barked, and I looked at him in disbelief. Was he calling my character into question before I’d even had a cup of coffee?

“Och, Archie. Give the lass a chance to hear us out. It’ll be your tetchy attitude sending this one running before the Kelpies ever will.”

“Tetchy? Me?” Archie sniffed. “Being direct is hardly being tetchy. It’s not my fault if kids these days can’t handle direct communication.”

“Kids these days…” Sophie snorted and shook her head, rose-gold hair tumbling over her shoulders. Today she wore jeans, hiking boots, and a cozy green cable-knit sweater. Dark circles smudged her eyes, a testament to the lost sleep she’d had the night before. “Yes, because the older generation is renowned for their ability to discuss their feelings.”

“Feelings?” Archie’s thick white brows shot up on his forehead. “What’s there to discuss? You just crack on with it.”

“There’s that stiff upper lip we so love.” Sophie made a fist.

“Och, who has the time to spend endless hours analyzing your inner workings when you could just be living your life?”

“Who has the time?” Sophie raised an eyebrow as Archie calmly pulled out a pair of scissors to snip at the feather for his fly. “I couldn’t possibly imagine where you could find the time for therapy.”

“Fishingistherapy, lass.”

“Guys? The Kelpies?” I asked, my anxiety already at about a strong nine and inching toward a panicky ten.

“There’s no easy way to say this, dear. We just ask that you hear us out.” Hilda settled into the tartan chair next to Archie, for all the world looking like an attractive, genteel woman enjoying tea at her fancy country estate. Not like she was about to lean into a discussion about myths come to life. However, her calm tone and warm eyes soothed some of the panic that was currently threatening to send me running. “MacAlpine Castle has a rich history of being one of the esteemed places selected to protect one of the most sought-after historical artifacts in the world—the Clach na Fìrrin. Also known as The Stone of Truth. Some would refer to this as the Holy Grail, though different accounts through history will point to other artifacts that hold this title. The reason the stone is sought after is not just for its historical value, but also for the power it provides.”

“Power?” A shiver rippled across my skin. I reached forthe cup of coffee, holding it between my hands to warm my palms.

“Aye, lass. Power. Magick. It’s said that anyone who gets their hands on the Stone knows all the secrets of the world. This knowledge can be used for good, or for bad, and must be protected at all costs. The Stone has chosen to rest at Loch Mirren, and the Order of Caledonia was enacted to protect the Stone at all costs.”

“The Order of Caledonia?”

“A round table of sorts,” Sophie said, pulling my attention to hers. “But not your traditional round table of olden days. Honestly, it’s quite progressive now that I think about it. So far all of the members have been women.”

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