Page 20 of Love Beyond Words
The rest of the day passed rather strangely. After Calder showed us to our individual rooms, he informed us that the other men of the castle were out in the forest working and that the master of the castle—whatever that meant—was already in the village for the day. He told us to make ourselves at home, to explore as we wished, and to be in the dining hall for dinner at sundown.
It was all very strange. While Calder was polite, he did nothing to hide his disapproval of Harry’s order. I couldn’t blame him.
It was one thing to allow us to stay here until Laird Allen returned. It was another thing entirely to leave us unattended in a massive castle that was undoubtedly filled with all sorts of valuable items.
I loved it. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been more excited about anything. I’d thought touring Scottish castles long after their prime was the peak of excitement. I was wrong. Touring them in this time, as a guest, was something I would be able to live off of for years.
It was unlike any other Scottish castle I’d ever seen. Gothic and exaggerated, each new wing was creepier than the last. And it was blatantly obvious that men lived and ruled here. It lacked anything feminine or fancy. Everything was for function, nothing for fuss.
Marcus and I spent the day familiarizing ourselves with the castle. About an hour before sunset, we each went to our room to freshen up.
I was ready way before Marcus. He was notorious for taking forever to get ready for anything. I waited inside my borrowed room until he came for me.
“You ready?” He called to me through the door just as the sun dipped below the bedchamber’s tall window, and I threw the door open with way too much force.
“So ready.”
He smiled at me and offered his arm.
“You look good, Laurel. More like yourself. As angry as I am at that witch, I’m pleased that you’re enjoying this so much. You needed something to bring you back to life.”
* * *
The ruckus from the dining hall could be heard as soon as we descended the castle’s grand stairway, but the moment Marcus and I stepped into the room, it fell completely silent.
“Hi.” It was literally the only thing I could think to say as seven men who were even more impressive in stature than Marcus rose from their seats around the table.
Harry was the first to speak.
“Laurel, lass, ye look even lovelier than ye did this morning. Ye and yer brother come around here so I may introduce ye to everyone.”
Nodding, we made our way to the side of the long table where there were two empty seats waiting for us.
He wasted no time in making introductions. I paid special attention as I was determined to do a better job of remembering each of their names than I was usually capable of doing.
“Calder, o’course.”
He pointed briefly to the man we’d already met and then moved his finger to the next man around the table.
The man had solid gray hair that fell just below his chin. He had kind but sad green eyes and stubble along his cheeks that was a slightly darker shade of grey. He was easily the oldest man at the table. He was also the shortest. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.
“This is Nicol. He is the master of the castle and the man whom we all serve.”
Nicol dipped his head in recognition and gave us both a smile that made my heart ache. He looked heartbroken and pained.
“Greetings to ye both. Ye are welcome here as long as ye wish. Any friend of Raudrich’s is a friend of mine.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Calder begin to open his mouth, but before he could say anything, Harry elbowed him straight in the ribs and gave him a look that made it clear he’d not told the rest of the men the truth about who we were.
I muttered a quick greeting and a thank you to him before Harry continued his introductions.
The next, a man named Quinn, had brilliantly blond hair that fell to his waist. His eyes were dark brown. He was striking in the most unusual way.
Next to Quinn sat Ludo. Ludo had the coolest curls I’d ever seen. They framed his face in a way that would make any girl envious, and his honey-colored eyes matched the shade of his hair. I was certain he had no trouble wooing ladies.
At the table’s end was Paton. He was easily the youngest. I couldn’t imagine that he was much older than twenty. He had jet black hair that he kept pinned at the nape. His brown eyes were kind and soft.
Finally, Harry ended his introductions with the man directly to Marcus’ right—Maddock. He had broad shoulders and strong arms—a trait every man around the table shared. Maddock kept his hair cut short, although it was slightly longer on top. His hair was a dirty blond and he had green-gold eyes. His nose was slightly large, with a knot in the middle which was a sure giveaway that at some point he’d broken it. His cheeks were smattered with freckles. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt an immediate kinship with this man. He reminded me of someone I’d known before, but I couldn’t recall who.
