Page 36 of Edinburgh Escape
Ewan gave Maggie a crooked smile. “You see? We’re all trying to get used to all the changes since my father’s passing. Mrs. Jones has been with the Drummonds since before I could remember. And old habits die hard.” He turned his smile on Mrs. Jones. “Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”
Mrs. Jones led the way up the curving staircase on the right, moving quickly and efficiently. When she arrived at the top, she turned right and passed through an archway, turned left and walked toward the rear of the manor, passing several doors before stopping in front of one on the right. She twisted the doorknob, pushed the door open and stood back. “Your room.”
Maggie entered first, her eyes wide, her mouth forming an O. “Oh, my,” she murmured. “It’s lovely.”
Callum followed her into a room with high ceilings, walls painted blue with gold-trimmed massive tapestries depicting women in gardens filled with flowers and small cherubic toddlers playing at their feet. A large bed dressed in a cream and blue silk comforter stood against the middle of the far wall, with towering posts at all four corners.
Mrs. Jones passed through the room to a door on the left and pushed open a door leading into a bathroom. “You have a private bath and a balcony. If you need additional towels, soaps or toiletries, let me know. I’ll be up later to service the room and turn down the bed.” She walked back to the center of the room. “Do you need anything now?”
Maggie shook her head. “Ewan said you’ve been here longer than he can remember.” She paused. “Would you happen to remember a young nanny with blond hair and blue eyes. Her name was Ayleen McKendrick.”
Mrs. Jones pressed her hands against her belt, her face poker straight, her lips pressed tightly together.
“It’s okay if you don’t,” Maggie hurriedly said. “I’m her daughter and, well, I just want to know what her life was like when she lived here in Scotland.”
Tears welled in Mrs. Jones' eyes, and one slid silently down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away. “I remember Ms. Ayleen well.”
Maggie’s face brightened. “You did? Meeting people who knew her when she was young makes me feel closer to her than I have since she passed.”
Mrs. Jones pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. She was such a wonderful girl. Effie and I grew up together in the village down the lane. Ayleen was like my own child.” Another tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t bother to brush it away. “Such a tragedy when Effie died in an automobile crash on her way back from Edinburgh. Ayleen was away at university in London.”
Maggie nodded. “Mother told me she was devastated. She’d lost her father when they were living in Montana three years earlier. Without her father in the States, her mother returned to Scotland, where she’d been raised.”
“Effie and Ayleen moved in with me.” More tears flowed down Mrs. Jones’s cheeks. “I cried when Effie died and held Ayleen through the funeral. I tried to make everything all right for her. I got her on here at Drummond Manor. For a while, we were muddling through. When she told me she was leaving to go back to Montana, I begged her to stay. She said she couldn’t, that she was pregnant and had to go somewhere she could raise her baby where she felt safe. I loved Ayleen like my own. She was such a lovely young lady.”
Maggie wrapped the older woman in her arms, her own tears spilling down her cheeks. “She was the best mother. I loved her so very much.”
Callum stood back, resisting the urge to either run from the room or wrap his own arms around both ladies in a group hug. All the emotion they were exhibiting and the grief they obviously felt echoed how he felt about losing his brothers in arms, emotions he hid, because that was what was expected of him. He envied the women’s ability and freedom to express their feelings unguardedly.
Callum didn’t run or join the hug. He stood ramrod straight, his grief firmly bottled inside with no release valve to let it out. He suspected the nightmares were the result.
After a few minutes, Maggie straightened and held Mrs. Jones at arm’s length. “Thank you, Mrs. Jones, for sharing your memories with me. It makes me glad I came.”
Mrs. Jones pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in her skirt and dabbed at her eyes. “I only heard you were coming today,” she said. “Otherwise, I would have told you not to come.”
Maggie’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”
Mrs. Jones glanced past her and Callum toward the open door and lowered her voice. “There have been strange occurrences around here.”
Callum frowned. “What do you mean by strange occurrences?”
“Accidents.” She moved closer. “One day, a week ago, the tree swing on the old oak on the east lawn fell, branch and all, while Master Bryce was playing on it.”
“Oh, no,” Maggie exclaimed. “Was Bryce hurt?”
Mrs. Jones shook her head. “His little bum was sore for a day, but nothing else. Daniel Boyd, our former chauffeur and horse trainer, put that swing up when Master Ewan was his brother’s age. The tree showed no signs of rot. The branch shouldn’t have broken. Master Bryce doesn’t weigh more than a couple of stones. Not nearly enough to break a sturdy limb. Then the railing on Master Ewan’s—sorry, Lord Drummond’s balcony broke free as he leaned against it one evening last week. He came close to falling but didn’t. Apparently, the wrought iron was rusted through where it attached to the wall. Lord Drummond arranged to have the balcony repaired and an arborist to inspect the old oak tree. Sadly, the swing was destroyed and had to be disposed of.”
“That’s terrible,” Maggie said. “But I’m glad no one was hurt.”
Mrs. Jones nodded. “We almost lost Lady Fiona and Master Bryce when the brakes malfunctioned on her car. If they hadn’t already slowed to allow another car to pass on the motorway, the crash could have been deadly. Lady Fiona was able to downshift with the gears enough to roll to a stop on the hard shoulder. Scared us all, especially Lady Fiona. She retired to her bed for two days. Master Bryce had no idea how close he came to losing his life.”
Maggie’s gaze met Callum’s.
Mrs. Jones touched Maggie’s arm. “Either the estate is cursed or someone is playing a dangerous game. You should stay somewhere else.”
Callum gave her a slight nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Jones. We’ll be on the lookout for trouble.”
The older woman nodded, her gaze on Maggie. “I would hate to lose you, Ms. Maggie. You might not have your mother’s looks, but I sense you have your mother’s kindness in ya.”
