Page 19 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
“Aye, it is, an’ there’s beauty in the silence, though at times it can feel overwhelmin’.” Miss Barclay said softly, and Moira looked carefully at her, detecting a slight melancholy in her demeanor. There was a sad vulnerability to her tone that hadn’t been present before.
It made Moira pause, her steps slowing as she glanced over at Miss Barclay, trying to understand the momentary shift in the air.
The girl quickly smiled, masking her pensiveness with a playful expression. “Dinnae mind me. Just ramblin'," she said.
“Miss Barclay,” Moira asked gently, “is everything well?"
“Aye,” she said. “All is as well as it could be. It’s just that this castle can be a wee bit borin’ at times, as fer the most part, it’s as quiet an' lonely as it is now at this early morn.”
“Is that so?” Moira questioned, curious. “But there are so many o’ us here, are there nae? I felt like I met countless people last night.”
“There are, and there aren’t,” Miss Barclay said, her voice detached. “There are people busy fulfilling their duties, working, but it’s a different kind of presence. The kind that doesn’t fill the space, but merely occupies it. Ye ken? There are nae many similar to me.”
Miss Barclay paused, her gaze drifting to the distant horizon.
“But what o’ Mr. McDougall’s daughter,” Moira asked, remembering what Roderick had told her. “Dae ye nae keep each other company?”
“Aye, Miss Fiona,” Miss Barclay replied. “She’s a kind lass, but she’s never here. Mr. McDougall keeps her away from the castle most o’ the time.”
Strange that he should be so angry about Roderick’s relationship with me yet keeps Miss Fiona far from him.
Her curiosity piqued.
“Why would he dae that?” She asked. “It seemed to me like all of ye were very tightknit.”
Miss Barclay smiled softly as though there was something that she was holding back. She then turned her head, briefly, to look around the gardens as they continued to walk. “Aye, some are, but Mr. McDougall only ever comes tae the castle if he has business. Generally, he’s nae very close wi' the others.”
“I see,” Moira said thoughtfully, as she gazed over the roses’ frozen petals. “Perhaps he had some sort o’ falling out?” She added casually, almost as if she was speaking to herself.
“Nay, nae that I’m aware of,” Miss Barclay said. “It is just that his lands are rather distant, on the outskirts o' town, an' they often require a lot o' his attention, so it makes sense that he'd be too occupied, I suppose. It is just a shame.”
“I see,” Moira said. “Itisa shame, especially since it sounded like he was rather close wi' the old laird. Perhaps I may have gotten it wrong.”
Through many years of practice, Moira had become well-seasoned in gathering information with tact. She enjoyed Miss Barclay’s company but her insight into the inner workings of the castle and its inhabitants was critical to Moira’s investigation. Despite this opportunity being handed to her, she knew not to come on too strong.
“Indeed,” she sighed. “He was very close wi’ the old laird, may his soul rest in peace. The two had grown up together. They were as close as braithers, but tae me knowledge, Mr. McDougall daesnae have much of a relationship wi’ anyone else here.”
“A shame,” Moira said. “Loneliness can kill ye afore yer time if ye let it fester. An' how terrible what happened tae the late laird. I’m so sorry I never got the chance tae meet him."
Moira recognized on some level that her comment about loneliness could pertain to her own situation but she pushed past any feelings of that sort.
“Indeed,” Miss Barclay responded. “It has been a tough time in the castle. The other night was the liveliest I’d seen everyone in a while. I can only imagine what it has been like fer the laird an' Lady Isobel.”
“Difficult,” Moira said pensively, assuming a somber tone as she stared off into the gardens. “Difficult, indeed.”
After a moment’s silence, Miss Barclay spoke again, “Och, here I am makin' this mornin' walk so very somber, please forgive me! We can certainly talk about somethin' else.”
Moira shook her head, offering a reassuring smile. "Nay need tae apologize, Miss Barclay. I dinnae fear somber topics or difficult talk.”
“Well,” Miss Barclay said, her voice brightening as if trying to shake off the lingering heaviness, “I suppose there’s nay harm in a little change of pace. Have ye been tae the village market yet?”
Moira smiled. “Nay, I havenae yet had the time.”
“Och, ye must,” Miss Barclay continued, “If ye’re looking fer some–”
Miss Barclay’s voice trailed off as they were interrupted by the sight of Roderick, standing at the entrance of the rose garden.
Moira and Miss Barclay had completed a full loop, bringing them face-to-face with him, as though in an unspoken standoff.
